


Judgement Call

by MoonlitDesertDreams



Series: New Beginnings [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Yoda Acquisition, Baby Yoda Needs a Hug, Big bad mandalorian, Canon Compliant, Do we all want to bang Din?, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mando needs a friend, Mudhorn, The Mandalorian needs a hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bounty hunters working together, kind of, kuiil is a cool guy, mention of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitDesertDreams/pseuds/MoonlitDesertDreams
Summary: A smirk took over her scarred face, and the man couldn't decide what was more disconcerting- the hunter across from him, or the company she kept."H-here, take my credits. Get yourself a drink."The woman's grin split further as she pointed to the glowering Mandalorian at the bar behind her."Oh no. He buys my drinks."
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: New Beginnings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871455
Comments: 36
Kudos: 351





	1. Part I: Partners

As unlikely as it is that a single person can be fluent in the hundreds of languages which filled the galaxy, there are certain symbols considered to be universally understood.

Hand gestures, such as a wave of greeting, or a flat hand to say 'stop'. All of them were fairly traditional and could be discerned no matter where one adventured.

However, a man being sliced in half held a whole different meaning.

Everyone in the cold tavern watched the Mandalorian as he stood up straight and holstered his blaster. His opponents now handled, the man seemed more hospitable than a few moments prior. The cloaked figure beside him gave a swift nod, heading to the seat opposite from the tavern’s resident Mythrol.

Cloaked in darkness and silent as a summer breeze, the figure sat across from the blue, amphibious creature and rested its arms on the smooth surface.

A nervous chuckle escaped the Mythrol. “That was some fancy fighting. Thank you. Thank you very much. You- you and your companion- have my heartfelt gratitude.”

The Mandalorian made his way to the bar, motioning for a drink from the now-silent bartender.

Back at the table, the hooded one reached towards their cloak, gloved hands lifting it up and away from a scarf- wrapped face. They removed the rest of their facial covering in quick succession, revealing curly blonde hair and a tanned, feminine face. A scar marred the right side from cheekbone to chin, pulling her lips into a hard, permanent scowl. She sighed.

“Much better.” She sing-songed, folding the cloth into a neat pile and setting it aside.

At the sight of her battle-worn and scarred face, the Mythrol put his hand on the table.

“You know what? Here. You take my credits. Get yourself a drink.”

The unmarred side of her face pulled into a smirk. “Oh no. He’s got my drink.” She tilted her head in the direction of the Mandalorian, who was making his way back across the tavern to stand motionless behind her after providing the aforementioned drink. “I’d prefer to take a look at this.”

She withdrew a puck from the lapels of her heavy parka, tossing it on the table. The hologram displayed the same face which sat adjacent to her. The Mythrol looked to her, face dropping from the faux-gratitude he had shown her before.

“Oh. Is that a bounty puck?” He swallowed, looking between the woman and her stock-still sentry. “Is that me?”

The blonde licked her lips, bringing the glass on their table to her mouth. “Is that your name?”

“Look… There must be some mistake.”

“Hm, doesn’t look like it.” Her high but deadly voice cut through his words like a vibroknife.

“I can get you more credits-” The Mythrol started, only to freeze when the Mandalorian shifted, one hand leaning onto the back of his companion’s chair, the other reaching towards his blaster.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” The Mandalorian’s voice was modulated and low, but the annoyance was clear. An impatient one, then.

The woman smiled at his words, looking up at the emotionless beskar helmet and then back to the Mythrol. “Listen. I’m a patient woman, but my partner is less inclined to such traits. It’s your choice.” She picked up the scarf and began wrapping it back around her face to ward off the cold beyond the tavern doors. “Make it quick, or he’ll choose for you. And he’s been pretty grumpy.”

A brief look was exchanged between her and the Mandalorian before she replaced her hood and drifted out of the tavern. With one last glance around, the Mythrol downed the rest of her drink and stood, allowing the Mandalorian to cuff and escort him out of the building.

She was waiting when they exited, and began walking towards the frozen ocean without a word. The air was tense, and the Mythrol was looking around at the vast emptiness that was their surroundings. As they approached the Kubaz ferry station near the docks, the woman stopped. A few syllables of Kubazian were chirped at her, to which she just shook her head.

“We need passage to the yards.” She twisted to look back at the Mandalorian. “No droids. I don’t want to hear about it today.”

The Kubaz played a few notes, watching the bounty party as their landspeeder approached. To the woman’s obvious annoyance, an R2 model droid was piloting.

“I said no droids. Jeez, pay attention.” She huffed.

The Kubaz chanted at her, waving a hand in the speeder’s direction.

“I don’t care, get me one without.”

The Mandalorian tossed a credit in the Kubaz’s direction, effectively halting his argument with the woman. After a few words and notes played, an old speeder idled their way, an older gentleman occupying the pilot’s seat.

“Where to?”

The Mandalorian shoved his bounty forwards, and the Mythrol lifted himself into the speeder.

The bounty hunter followed, hauling his tall, armored body into the speeder. Their pilot turned to the cloak-covered woman, who was looking unimpressed at the lack of available seating.

“Squeeze on in between them. Can’t have you rattlin’ around on the floor.”

With a scoff, she climbed into the already-cramped vehicle. Her hood blew off then, revealing her blonde hair to the frigid wind. Her eyes darted from the seat to the sky, at which point they rolled. “Mando?”

The bounty hunter unclasped his hands, allowing the woman to sit sideways across his knees to avoid being squished between them. She ducked away from the wind, ignoring glances from the Mythrol. It was rare enough to see a Mandalorian, let alone one who allowed an overly- sarcastic woman to sit across their lap.

“Do I smell that bad?” He tried to make a joke, but the woman’s eyebrows lifted. Through the scarf, her voice was slightly muffled.

“Just- stop while you’re ahead.”

The old speeder jerked to life as the pilot received confirmation they were ready, and the arm of the Mandalorian closest to the Mythol lifted to rest overtop of his partner’s thighs. She squeaked in surprise- the first time she had showed any other emotion aside from confidence and anger- and grabbed ahold of the Mandalorian’s pauldrons for support.

“You know how to drive?” She snapped at the pilot.

“This is an old speeder, ma’am. Acceleration ain’t workin’ like it used to.”

They sped across the ice for a silent few minutes, the man in the front seat looking through binoculars every few moments. Nervous as ever, the bounty once again spoke.

“You know what he’s looking for?”

Neither bounty hunter responded, the only indication either had heard being the woman’s icy blue eyes on him. Her gloved fingers tapped in an eerily specific pattern against the Mandalorian’s vambrace.

“You’re looking for Ravinaks, right?”

The older man turned his head back in the Mythrol’s direction. “It’s clear right now. Be careful at the ports. Everyone dumps their gray holds like the planet’s their own personal stinkpit.”

His voice was whisked in every direction by the wind, leaving the rest of their ride back to the hunters’ ship in relative silence. Every flinch and shift from the Mythrol was followed by the blonde’s sharp eyes, while the Mandalorian looked at ease beneath all of his armor. In spite of the fact that the woman did most of the talking, it seemed that the Mandalorian was calling the shots.

The ship they eventually slowed to was an old vessel, surprising the amphibious man. With the reputation Mandalorians held for bounty hunting, it was assumed the ship would be more expensive. Newer, at least.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Using her petite size to his advantage, the Mandalorian helped his partner up and out of the speeder before climbing down himself. They were a rather intimidating pair as they stood on the ice.

“Get out.” Came the modulated command.

Hesitant to board such an old vessel, the Mythrol protested. “I’ll hire us a Livery Cruiser. No big deal. It won’t come out of your end. I’ll pay for it.”

He was led towards the ship by the Mandalorian, the female hunter watching the ice around them carefully.

“It’s time to go, so let’s settle up.” Their driver called from his craft, looking towards the woman.

She shrugged, tossing a look over her shoulder. “Sunshine over there’s got the credits.”

The Mythrol could’ve sworn he heard a snort from the Mandalorian - Mando, as she had called him earlier- as he dug in his pocket to pay the man.

“I’d stay off the ice if I were you.”

Rolling her eyes at the remark, the woman moved around the ship to the hatch and let herself in. The Mythrol looked to Mando, eyes scanning every inch of the polar ice.

“You really think there’s something to worry about?”

Unsurprisingly, his captor was silent. The old man’s speeder headed across the ice in the direction they had come, only to disappear in a split second before the fog enveloped it. A roar echoed across the frozen wasteland, and he scrambled backwards.

“Open the hatch! Open the hatch!”

He was dragged out of the way just as the massive Ravinak’s tusks broke the surface of the ice. The Mandalorian shoved him towards the open hatch, ushering him up the ramp and into the cockpit. The ship lurched as the creature attacked, forcing the two men to move faster. They emerged into the cockpit in a flurry of steel and blue skin. The woman was sitting in the pilot’s seat, one hand gripping her forehead and the other frantically flipping switches.

“Mando, what the hell was that?”

“Move.” Mando grunted, gently nudging her from the pilot’s chair. She lifted herself out, and stumbled when the ship jerked again. “Ravinak.”

“Stay off the ice! That’s the understatement of the millenium!” The Mythrol complained, frantically rocking in the co-pilot seat. “It’s taking us down. What’re you doing?”

A flurry of switched were flicked and ‘Auto-pilot’ flashed across the navicomputer screen. The Mandalorian stood, calmly making his way out of the cockpit. The woman pulled the scarf from her face and replaced him in the seat, while the blue man behind her scampered to the window to watch the bounty hunter. The hatch slid open, and from his vantage point the end of a rifle appeared, aiming quickly at the Ravinak before a blast rung out and the crackle of electricity could be heard inside the vessel. The Ravinak roared in pain, releasing the ship.

“You two are the real deal, huh?” The Mythrol, whose name she couldn’t care to remember, asked.

“Guess so.” She said flatly, switching off auto-pilot and flying the ship up and away from the broken ice. The Mandalorian returned shortly thereafter. His cloak hung limply behind him, while the scent of gunpowder followed him into the cockpit. Both hunters looked irritated, and the woman muttered something about her head hitting the console as she once again allowed Mando the controls. True to her word, a thin stream of blood dripped from her hairline.

“I’m going down to take care of this.” She murmured, descending the ladder to the quarters below.

They traveled off-world in silence, and the Mythrol kept quiet until the darkness of space surrounded them and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I like your ship. She’s a classic. Razor Crest, am I right?”

Silence.

“Pre-Empire?”

After a few futile attempts at starting a conversation with his actions-speak-louder-than-words captor, the Mythrol sighed. The desperation was setting in.

“What about the woman? She a bounty hunter too?”

That actually drew a reaction from the Mandalorian. His head angled ever-so-slightly in the direction of the co-pilot chair, but he didn’t speak.

“Do you ever shut up?”

A feminine voice rang out behind the seats, and the woman hoisted herself up the last ladder rung. She had changed into black tactical pants and tall leather boots with a light gray long-sleeve top and blasters strapped to either thigh. Her curly hair was tied into a messy knot, the ringlets around her face escaping the band and dangling past her jaw.

The Mythrol sighed, facing back towards the front of the craft. He was not resigned to this fate. “I think I need to use the vacc tube. I mean, I can do it here, but if you’ve never seen a fledgling Mythrol evacuate his thorax-”

“Go. Just- go.” The woman stopped him with a hand and motioned to the cargo hold.

“Thanks.” He muttered, stepping aside to allow her full access to the cockpit.

The ladder had thin rungs and his boots slid on the worn metal. The vacc tube was the least of his concerns as he looked around. He found his excuse to his left, but wandered around the hold. He talked loudly, making sure to cover his snooping with his voice. Claiming that it might take awhile, he stepped towards the wall control panel. He tapped a few buttons, revealing an arms cabinet fixed into the rear wall. It slid open, but no sound came from the cockpit. He briefly inspected the weapons, furrowing his brow at the piece of parchment tacked to the top of one side that read ‘Zakia’s ONLY’.

Zakia was her name then. The Mandalorian was still a mystery, apart from the generic ‘Mando’ that everyone termed him. Knowing her name could be useful though. It was always good to know your enemies.

Continuing the pointless rambling to distract his jailers, he meandered to his right. There were three slabs hanging from the ceiling, one in front of the other. He approached slowly, calling out about being free for Life Day.

His blood ran cold at the realization that it wasn’t just slabs. It was carbonite. Three figures, frozen in carbonite.

“...Maybe even get home to the family.” He tried to keep his voice level, “But I guess that’s not gonna happen this year.”

He was out of luck before he knew it. The Mythrol turned, coming face-to-face with cold steel and a black visor. The Mandalorian grabbed him by the coat and swung him around until his back hit a wall.

“Night night.” A sickly sweet voice chirped.

The last thing he saw before the blackness took over was two shards of ice staring back at him.

* * *

“Zakia.”

The blonde huffed, shifting under her blanket so the disturbance was to her back.

“Zakia, let’s go. We’re on Nevarro.”

The mention of Nevarro had her blinking awake, eyes searching the small living quarters. Zakia located the Mandalorian kneeling beside their bed in full armor, fingers prodding her shoulder. The dim lights glinted off his beskar helmet to cast a yellow glow onto her skin.

“What… was I asleep the whole trip?” She swung her legs to the floor so she could sit up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Zakia’s legs ached in protest as she stretched out the cramping muscles. Gallivanting through a frozen wasteland for their Mythrol target had been low on her to-do list, but she knew the money from the job was needed. Prices were higher than ever, and the Razor Crest was far from efficient when it came to fuel usage.

“Yes. I’m taking the bounties in for reward.” He answered, standing to full height. Zakia nodded, eyes sweeping over his familiar form. His shoulders were slumped just enough that she could read the exhaustion in his body, and it motivated her to move. The faster they turned in their quarries, the sooner he could come back and rest.

“You should have woke me. You’re tired.” Zakia stood and lifted a hand, resting it just under the brim of his helmet where metal met skin.

“I’m fine.” He monotoned back, lifting his helmet away and exiting the room. A usual response for him.

Zakia knew better than to push the issue, and called after him. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

He was checking the vitals of their frozen victims when she emerged into the cargo hold, dressed in thick black leggings and tall boots. Her duel blasters were strapped to either thigh, their weight familiar and comforting. She donned a gray jacket with a tall collar and cinched waist to ward off the occasionally breezy atmosphere of Nevarro.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m ready whenever you are.” She told him, leaning against the wall near their arms case.

The Mandalorian dipped his head, nudging past Zakia to retrieve the spent tracking fobs for their bounties. He laid a gloved hand on her back, and gently bumped his helmet against the side of her head. She understood it as a silent apology for his shortness a few minutes prior, and swiftly kissed the cool steel. After spending years with someone hidden behind a mask for the majority of their time together, Zakia had learned to read the little things. The tilt of his head, the slope of his shoulders. All body language and sounds that his modulator didn’t quite pick up, but escaped under the brim of his helmet nonetheless.

They walked into the bazaar single-file, as was their usual. Zakia led the way while Mando trekked behind. She knew he was keeping an eye on everyone, all while keeping her within his line of sight. Zakia was far from helpless, but she was petite compared to some of the mixed species in busy bazaars. Mando trusted her abilities, but a nagging fear was always present in the dark corners of his mind. He was cautious by nature- raised in the Fighting Corps where anyone could be lost in a moment’s notice. Zakia was far too important to him- though he would never admit it in any presence aside from hers- to lose.

His companion wove her way across town, breaking through throngs of people all too busy to scold her. The tavern on Nevarro which the Bounty Hunter’s Guild worked out of was bustling, and Zakia wrinkled her nose at the patrons. It smelled like blaster smoke and unwashed man inside, indicating it had been a good week for most hunters. Some turned and rumbled lowly about the pair as they entered, but no one dared stop them. They all knew who the top hunters were.

As excepted, Greef Karga was seated in his customary booth near the center of the tavern. He stood to greet the pair, gripping Zakia’s hand and giving it brief shake. She managed a tight smile to the Guild boss, who motioned for them both to sit.

“The pair of you continue to impress me with the speed at which you apprehend targets. Did you catch them all?”

Zakia slid into the open booth across from Greef without a word. On their hunts Zakia did most of the talking, as bounties were generally more pleasant when dealing with her. However, on the opposite end of things, Mando’s intimidation factor tended to increase their pay and receive the best pucks.

The tracking fobs and release keys to the slabs of carbonite aboard the Razor Crest were tossed onto the table, where Mando loosely held onto his end.

“I’ll begin the offload.” He told them. Greef called something out in Huttese, to which his goonies near the door nodded and headed out of the building. Mando unclipped the rifle strap from his shoulder and sat beside his partner, keeping the weapon within his reach. The small booth had them pressed together along the length of their bodies, drawing some stares that were quickly thrown back with twice the venom.

Greef had counted out credits for them, and Zakia watched with muted interest. Currency was not her specialty. A lack of impulse control could attest to that, and it was agreed that Mando handled the credits. She had a small amount with her at all times, but Mando managed all of the bounties and rewards.

“These are Imperial Credits.” Mando deadpanned. Zakia rubbed at the scar on her cheek, kneading the knotted skin in an attempt to assuage the boredom creeping up on her. The argument about credits and which particular currency they came in was a tired one. Greef and Mando had the conversation far more times than Zakia cared to count.

“They still spend.” Greef defended, setting his wrists on the table and taking a swig from his spotchka. Zakia cocked an eyebrow at his statement, gaze flickering to Mando and then to the distinctly marked square credits resting before them.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the Empire is gone.” Zakia could feel the tension in Mando’s shoulders as he spoke to Greef.

“It’s all I’ve got.”

Mando reached forward and took the fobs he had previously left on the table’s center. Greef lurched forward, grasping his wrist to prevent the action. “Save the theatrics.”

After Mando twisted his wrist away and cast a glare even Greef could see through the helmet, the man relented.

“Fine. I can do Calamari Flan. But I can only pay half.” The deal was not necessarily fair, but Zakia knew it was better than the Imperial credits offered previously.

“Fine. “ Mando grunted, swiping the Calamari credits from the table. Zakia stood from the booth, nudging the Mandalorian’s arm.

“I’m getting a drink.”

She swiped one of the Imperial credit chips from the table, ignoring Greef’s weak protest at her actions. Zakia’s approach was slow, and she pushed through prickly-looking women and burly men to get to the bar. A small area was unoccupied, and she sandwiched herself between a Twi’lek and a fairly large Trandoshan to take it.

“Haven’t seen you around lately.” The bartender that Zakia recognized as an old man named Jev, walked to her position as he wiped his hands on a rag. “That Mandalorian keeping you locked inside the ship?”

Zakia snorted, handing the credit chip over to Jev. “As if. He gets sick of me after a few hours in hyperspace, I doubt he’d wanna keep me locked in.”

Jev chuckled at her remark, inspecting the chip. “What’ll it be?”

“Whatever’s good today.” She told him. The feeling of being watched raised the hairs on Zakia’s neck, and she turned quickly to catch the Twi’lek staring at her face. It wasn’t unusual- the wound that caused her face to be marred was deep. Deep enough to damage tissue and the underlying muscle that helped her smile. It served to deepen every frown and make even her neutral expression appear angry. But years of living with it had dampened the effect of gawkers and curious stares.

“It’s from a Wookiee.” Zakia stared ahead at the bar as she spoke. “Nasty, isn’t it?”

The Twi’lek woman shrugged, fingering the rim of her own glass while debating a response. Jev set Zakia’s drink down as the other woman tilted her head back in the blonde’s direction. “A Wookiee?”

Zakia gripped her drink and turned from the bar.

“Yep.” She took a sip, cocking a brow at the sharp taste. “A Wookie with a vibroblade.”

Pushing her way back to the table was less effort than leaving it. Zakia found her tablemates both leaning across the small surface, Karga extending an old-fashioned holochit to Mando. When the man spotted her reproach, he lowered the chit and halted whatever he had been saying.

Zakia stooped down and slid in next to Mando until their thighs were pressed against each other. Greef looked between them and then back to the Mandalorian as if for confirmation.

“What’s going on?” She wondered aloud, casting a suspicious look between the two men. Her icy blue eyes reflected in Mando’s visor, giving her nothing but a blank stare back.

“Give me the chit.” Mando abruptly turned back to Greef, holding out a single gloved hand.

Greef complied, though Zakia still remained in the dark. Mando immediately climbed from the booth, swinging his rifle back to its place on his shoulder. He held out a hand to Zakia, who only stared at the appendage. A show of affection was oddly uncharacteristic for him, even one as small as a helping hand.

The blonde finished her drink in a single go, sending a scowl in Karga’s direction. Not wanting to cause any further grief than what she sensed was coming, Zakia accepted Mando’s hand and stood. The Mandalorian brushed out of the tavern, maneuvering Zakia in front of him as they exited.

“What’s going on?” She halted as they exited the tavern, pulling Mando aside into a shaded corner between two buildings. A Jawa toddled in her direction, and she shooed it away as it pawed at her blasters.

“A high-profile bounty. No puck. Just the chit card.” His voice was strained, even through the modulator.

“And what aren’t you telling me?” Zakia asked, hands resting on her hips. She could tell something wasn’t right by the way Mando was acting. He wasn’t one for long speeches, but he usually explained where they were headed.

“I want you to go back to the Crest and make sure Karga’s men didn’t mess anything up. I am going to go find out about this target.” Mando adjusted his rifle and picked at an imaginary spot of dirt on the sling.

Zakia’s frown deepened, pulled down further by the bunched tissue of her scar. “We have Karga’s men unload the ship twice a cycle, Din. What are you not telling me?”

He straightened at the use of his name. “I need you to go back to the ship.”

Zakia was about to retort, when Din cut in. “Please.”

A blonde eyebrow shot towards her hairline, but her expression softened. “Are you… cutting me out of this deal?”

“Of course not.” Mando made sure no one was paying attention and lifted his hand, brushing a gloved finger down her jaw. “I don’t like how Karga sounded when he spoke of the man putting up the bounty. I think it’s better they think I’m working alone.”

It was a hard point to argue. The secretive clientele who offered direct commission bounties preferred everything to be on a need-to-know basis. The fewer who knew about their normally illegal business, the better. Zakia smacked her lips after a moment of debate, looking up into the blank black visor.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go. But you sync this-” she held up a com unit “-with your helmet. Beep me if something goes wrong.”

Din nodded, tapping on his vambrace to do as she said. He withdrew a few credit chips as well, sliding them into the pocket of her jacket. “Pick up some rations for the ship. And I know you wanted a new coat.”

Zakia cracked a smile at his thoughtfulness. “Maybe there is a brain under all that steel.” She tipped forward onto her toes to kiss the cold helmet where his cheek would be. “I’ll meet you back at the ship?”

“Back at the ship.” Din confirmed.

They parted ways, disappearing into the bustling bazaar of Nevarro.


	2. Part II: Spoken

The bazaar only grew busier as the day drew on, and Zakia had to weave in between people to make her way across town. She was searching for their usual ration supplier, though the amount of people in her way only served to slow her progress. Jawas ran beneath everyone’s feet, offering blaster parts and various objects that could only be described as junk. The little scavengers poked and prodded at Zakia’s blasters every chance they got, some admiring and some pointing and waving, attempting to bargain. 

“No trades!” She told a particularly persistent one, bending down to its level. It motioned to her face and then acted as if it was wrapping itself in an embrace. She took it as a compliment, or, as close as they could get, and laughed. “I can’t help you, man.”

At her shrug, the Jawa sighed pitifully and wandered away. She chuckled at his retreat, standing to survey the area. Mando and her had separated close to a half hour ago, and she had yet to get any rations. 

“Damn. Focus, nerf-herder.” She muttered to herself. 

It took another ten minutes, but their normal food supplier welcomed her with open arms. “What can I do for my favorite couple?” The old Ishi Tib paused, pointing her wrinkled hand at Zakia. “You’re still together, yes? I don’t see your Mandalorian today.”

“We still travel together, yes.” Zakia examined some bright-colored fruits on the table, collecting the credits Mando had deposited in her pocket. “Mando’s working.”

“Good. Men need to work. What can I get for you?” 

Zakia got their usual supplies, accepting the cloth bag the Ishi Tib packaged it in. She sorted the appropriate amount of credits and paid the woman before turning in the direction of the ship. Din had mentioned her getting a new coat but the bag of rations was large and Zakia had no desire to lug it about the market. It was enough heaving to get the bag back onto the Razor Crest. 

The ship seemed much more open with the bounties gone, and Zakia stretched her arms as she hauled the bag aboard. She made her way to the small galley, packing the rations into their proper places and reorganizing items that her companion generally failed to. She stuck her mouth under the faucet, skipping the cup to get a drink of water. 

“Classy.”

Zakia jumped, successfully colliding her head with the low cabinet above the sink. She cursed aloud, rubbing at her damaged skull and whirling to face Din. He stood in the doorway, one shoulder leaned against the wall. But his posture didn’t stick out out to her. It was his pauldron. 

A brand new, Beskar-forged pauldron. 

“Is that..?” Zakia trailed off, nearing Mando and reaching towards his shoulder. 

“Yes.” 

The metal was still warmed from the forge, and it tingled beneath her fingertips. 

“You went to the covert.” Zakia turned to his face then, analyzing his helmet. “And they just… gave you a new pauldron?”

She knew of the Mandalorian covert on Nevarro. Din had never told her a location, but she knew it was there. The same policy as high-profile bounty issuers- the fewer who knew, the better. 

“No. That was courtesy of our employer.” Din told her. “Apparently, he has a camtono of Beskar waiting for me when we apprehend the target.”

“A camtono?” Zakia felt a shiver run down her spine. Something wasn’t right about that. Din had told her stories of the Beskar being taken during the Great Purge. About the Empire taking it. “Din, does that mean they’re-”

“Yes.” 

Zakia’s blood ran cold. While she had stayed relatively clear of the war in the bounty business, she had made acquaintances on the opposing side of the Empire. She had heard the stories and knew the legends, but having a first-hand experience was not something Zakia was particularly keen on. 

“Who’s the target?” She pressed. 

A shrug. “No chain code. No puck. They’re fifty years old. Last known position was on Arvala-7.” 

“Fifty? That’s a little older than the normal perps.” Zakia commented, momentarily forgetting who was offering the bounty. “What do the Imps want with it?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Din departed from the galley, Zakia following into the cockpit. “The Beskar will sponsor many Foundlings.”

Zakia knew Din’s view on Foundlings- he was one himself at a time. While they had told each other stories of their history, specifics of Mandalorian culture were lost on her. She knew the basics, of course. No living thing was to see a Mandalorian without their helmet, or they would be bound by tradition to remove it permanently. As many years as she had traveled with Din, she’d never seen his face. Felt it, even kissed it in the dark, sure. Never had she seen him. They were loopholes in the culture which Zakia had been hesitant to be a part of, but nothing came of it. There was no world-ending explosion when the helmet came off in the pitch-black of their shared quarters late at night. There was no surprise attack, just an unbearable need to feel one another.

“Ok. What’s the travel time?” She asked, leaning against the back of Mando’s pilot chair. He was tapping away at the Navicomputer. 

“Eighteen hours, it looks like.” He murmured, dropping his head back against the seat. 

Zakia let her hands drop to his shoulders, gripping the pauldrons which rested there. The shiny Beskar was still warm, and she slipped her hands beneath the armor. Her fingers followed the path around his neck to unwind the complicated design of his cloak, and tugged the offending fabric away once it was free. 

“Eighteen hours is enough for you to get some sleep. Go clean up and eat. I’ll stay up here and get us on course.” Zakia rubbed the skin of his neck, deft fingers massaging the knots out of his muscles. 

“I’m not sure I want to go just yet.” Din tugged Zakia around the chair and into his lap, all while piloting the ship out of Nevarro’s atmosphere. He pulled her down sideways as they had on the speeder with their last bounty, but Zakia smirked. She swung one leg around until her knees were on either side of his waist. The Mandalorian used one hand to brace her lower back as the darkness of space pierced the cockpit, and Zakia smiled, leaning back to trail a hand down his chestplate. 

“Zak…” Din started, using the nickname normally reserved for intimate moments. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” She whispered throatily, breath hot on his ear. He dragged a breath in as her hands began rubbing against his sides and unfastening each piece of armor. His hands gripped her hips, squeezing the flesh there and traveling up to cup her breasts. 

Zakia sighed, dipping her head until her mouth found purchase on his neck. Din dropped his head back, allowing her better access. She was moving painfully slow, and he growled with impatience. One hand left her for the control panel, and he flipped the ship into autopilot before standing abruptly. The other hand was beneath Zakia’s backside, keeping her flush against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she giggled when Din scrambled down the ladder while supporting both of them. 

“Ready for bed yet?”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

Deep space had eerie quiet about it that never failed to soothe Din. The hum of the Razor Crest’s engines as they soared through space acted as background noise, lulling him into a sense of safety and comfort he rarely experienced otherwise. His bed was warm and soft, cushioning every sore muscle and joint he had. 

Din lifted a hand in the darkness of their bunk, using his fingers to locate Zakia’s face and brush across it gently. He smoothed down some of her wild curls, and the blonde continued to sleep peacefully on his chest. Her skin was smooth, complexion marred only by the puckered skin of her scar. 

_Mando was in a tense stand-off with the Wookiee bounty hunter._

_The creature had a large vibroknife in one hand, pointed in Mando’s direction. The other hand was wrapped around Zakia’s neck, using her as a partial human shield. Of course her head barely surpassed his waist but the threat was clear. The knife moved from Mando to her neck, and he watched her strain away_

_“Let the girl go.” Mando bit out._

_“What about me?” The bounty for which Mando, Zakia, and the Wookiee had all been searching broke into their ‘negotiation’. He was a mess of a human, one wrist cuffed to the opposite ankle- a crystal clear sign of Zakia’s twisted humor._

_“Would you shut up? You’re coming with me, you moron.” Zakia snapped._

_She was just as defiant as Mando remembered, despite the fact it had been over six cycles since they had spoke to one another. He was usually adverse to working in groups to retrieve bounties, but Zakia had grown to be the exception. They had worked together a handful of times, and travelled together for a few cycles. Though she tended towards dry sarcasm and had an outstanding attitude problem, this was by far the worst situation she’d talked herself into._

_The Wookiee howled in its strange form of communication, shaking Zakia by the throat. She groped at the hand around her neck, though its strength far outmatched even her most desperate attempts. Mando tensed as she stared at him, blue eyes burning into his visor. She peered down at the blaster strapped to her thigh and back to Mando. A barely perceptible dip of her head spurred him into motion._

_Zakia reached for her blaster, drawing it sharply and twisting towards the beast holding her. It howled in contempt, jumping out of the bolt’s path. Zakia dropped to the floor and rolled, while Mando fired a shot from his own blaster. His bolt managed to catch the Wookiee in the leg, but not before it snatched Zakia’s ankle and dragged her back. It yowled in pain, and Din was painfully aware of Wookiee tendencies to pull individuals apart limb by limb. He was already crossing the twenty or so yards between them when Zakia called to him._

_“Mando-” She grappled with her attacker, trying to get an angle to pull the trigger. “A little help?”_

_The blonde fired another shot, and the events surrounding it cast the appearance of an explosion. Zakia cried out at the same time as the Wookiee, and her body was sent tumbling across the ground into Mando’s shins. Her head collided hard with the rocky ground, and the Mandalorian paused to survey the enemy before tending to her. The hairy beast twitched a few times, but went blessedly still._

_“Zakia?” Mando knelt, brushing curls away from her face. She laid on her side, seemingly unhurt aside from the head wound that caused her unconscious state. He used a single hand to roll her to her back. “...Stars.”_

Din would never forget that day. It was the day that kicked off their permanent partnership, though the romantic aspect failed to come into play for almost a year after. They were both cautious and good at their job. It seemed an optimal match, but having a constant partner proved difficult for both the first few cycles. 

_‘Kar'taylir darasuum’._

It was the label the Armorer had given the bond Din felt with Zakia. The blonde had never been to the covert, but Din had explained his feelings to the Armorer when they were alone. Away from the scathing glares from Paz Vizla and the other heavy artillery Mandalorians. 

“Hm… Din?” 

Zakia stirred atop his chest, sliding down until her face was curled into his side. 

“Here.” He answered, rolling onto his side towards her. Zakia let out a sleepy huff at the intrusion of her space, but buried her face into his bare chest nonetheless. His sudden shift caused a rift in the blanket covering them, and a draft of cold air blew into the warm cocoon of fabric. 

Zakia squealed, lifting her head and pressing a kiss into his chin before sitting up. “Well, I’m awake now.”

“As am I.” 

Arvala-7 was nothing more than desolate. 

The red desert sand was scorching if the strange mirage-like sensations in the windscreen told Zakia anything. The Razor Crest heated up almost immediately upon landing, and she opted for a short-sleeve tunic as opposed to her normal jacket. She still wore her normal black pants and boots, but added a headwrap to protect her scalp and face from the heat. Her eyes and nose were visible and some errant curls broke through the cover, but it was better than a sunburn. She coated the visible skin in salve before exiting the cockpit and checked both blasters were fully loaded. Din had stuffed an extra into her waistband, and a dagger in her boot just in case. She could tell he was apprehensive about this job, and Zakia didn’t challenge him. The Mandalorian usually had a good sense of things, and doubting him had led to sticky situations for her numerous times. 

Said hunter was already on the hard terrain of the desert hell when Zakia descended into the cargo hold. She deftly typed in the code for the hatch and strolled out, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. Mando had his rifle propped in one hand against his hip, the other holding the tracking fob. 

“How’s it looking?” Zakia murmured as she stood beside him. 

“Orange.” He replied flatly. 

She rolled her eyes, turning to walk the other side of the ship and check the far valley. They had landed on a rocky outcrop high above the rolling rocky hills, with an all-around view of the planet. The sound of Din powering up his rifle’s sights met her ears as Zakia made her way around the landing gear, and she relaxed a bit. They were always on alert while completing a job, but it was clear the target has quite a bit of terrain to hide in. 

“Ah! Zak-” 

A yell from the direction Zakia came kicked her brain into attack mode, and she hustled back to Mando’s position at the rear of the ship. His right arm was locked in the jaw of a strange creature she hadn’t seen before. It was a bulky creature with short legs and sharp teeth, though it easily towered over both of them. 

Zakia saw the flamethrower shoot haphazardly from Mando’s gauntlet, and she pulled a blaster and fired off a couple shots at the beasts. Din punched at its eye as she did so, and it was enough for the beast to release him momentarily. He stumbled back, but the creature recovered and charged again. It latched onto his opposite arm and ran, this time throwing Mando’s heavy weight into Zakia. 

She groaned at the hit, dropping to one knee. Mando’s helmet made solid contact with her shoulder, and Zakia noticed a moment later that the Mandalorian laid at her feet. More strange, was the creature still holding his arm in its mouth as it laid still on the ground. 

Barely giving her enough time to consider what had happened, another larger specimen came full--throttle in their direction, but fell just short of Mando’s legs. Zakia blinked, wondering internally if she was seeing things. Maybe this planet had something in the atmosphere?

Her head snapped up as Din began hauling himself upright, both hunters coming face-to-face with another beast, but this one smaller. Not only smaller, but ridden- an Ugnaught was perched upon its back, holding a small blaster-type weapon and reins to control the animals. He studied the two intruders carefully, and Zakia imagined they both looked like frazzled idiots to him. 

“Thank you.” Din managed, giving the Ugnaught a grateful nod as he freed his hand. 

Zakia stepped up, nudging one animal with her toe to ensure it wouldn’t move. She took note of the large darts imbedded in their hide. The Ugnaught must have some experience with these creatures, then. 

“You are bounty hunters.” It wasn’t a question, but Zakia nodded regardless. 

“Yes.” Din’s answer was short, but it was obvious the Ugnaught was far from concerned. He studied the pair closely for a moment.

“I will help you.” 

Zakia raised a finger to speak, but the Ugnaught looked sharply in her direction.

“I have spoken.”

He was already moving away, and the hunters took it as their cue to follow. Zakia shot a look at the porcine-man’s back, looking to Din for confirmation. The Mandalorian seemed to share her hesitancy, but tipped his head in the Ugnaught’s direction. 

“He spoke.” Din uttered just loud enough for her to hear, and Zakia snorted. 

“So I heard.”

* * *

The trek back to Ugnaught's land was fairly easy, and the setting sun provided a merciful break from the heat. Zakia’s boots were coated in red dust, and her pants were spotted with sand from where she’d fallen. Mando was worse for wear, with a damaged vambrace and dirtied armor. In spite of their ragged appearance the man was more than welcoming. He ushered them into his small home, where one chair was open near a small table. Zakia motioned for Mando to sit, while she sat with legs crossed beneath her on the floor. 

“Many have passed through.” He spoke, looking up from the small workbench to observe the pair. “They seek the same one.”

“You helped them too?” Zakia inquired, taking the opportunity to untie her headwrap. 

“Yes.” It became apparent that the Ugnaught was brewing some sort of tea at the bench as the smell enveloped them. “They died.” 

Din’s boot covertly nudged Zakia’s spine, and she caught his visor tilted towards her in her peripheral. “Then I don’t know if we want your help.”

If he was a rude person, Zakia would imagine the Ugnaught would snort at Mando’s comment. “You do. I can show you to the encampment.”

“What’s your cut?” Din was straight to business after hearing those words. 

“Half.” 

“Half of the payment?” Zakia’s mouth was moving before her brain, but Mando seemed to agree with her sentiment. 

“No. Half of the Blurrg you helped capture.” The Ugnaught motioned towards the corral outside. 

“The Blurrg?” Mando questioned. “You can keep them both.”

Zakia shuddered at the thought of the hideous creatures. She had a pretty strong opinion on Wookiees after her injury, but just the Blurrg’s appearance had them climbing her list of detested species. 

“No. You two will share one. To ride. The way is impossible to pass without a Blurrg mount.” Their host offered Zakia a cup of tea, and she accepted despite Mando’s stare. Her throat was dry after their desert hike, and the small man seemed trustworthy enough that she trusted there was nothing despicable in it. 

“Neither of us know how to ride Blurrg.” Din told the Ugnaught. 

Another “I have spoken” came from the being, and both hunters were silent. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Kar'taylir darasuum’ -- Love


	3. Part III: The Compound

Zakia couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as she watched her Mandalorian attempt to ride a Blurrg. He was growing frustrated quickly after being thrown to the ground time after time, and the Ugnaught just watched. He insisted that being a lady, Zakia would be spared the lesson as long as Din was able to master it. There was no need for them both to learn the skill if only one was needed to direct the reins. 

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet.” The Ugnaught called from his position beside Zakia. 

She tensed, expecting a snappy remark about Mandalorian culture. Din surprised her, sitting up with hands propped behind him. 

“Perhaps he remembers I tried to roast him.” 

The Ugnaught shook his head, motioning to the Blurrg which paced aimlessly about the corral. “This is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.”

Zakia gave a one-shoulder shrug, tightening her headwrap. “Least I’m not alone.”

After another failed attempt and Din inquiring about a landspeeder instead of the creatures, the Ugnaught pointed at his chestplate. “You are a Mandalorian. Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur! Surely you can ride this young foal?”

Zakia watched the creature grunt and growl at Mando, but her partner seemed to have a realization at the Ughnaught’s words. He approached slower, murmuring to the beast. This time, he was not bucked off, and Zakia smiled brightly in his direction before remembering her face was concealed. 

“‘Bout time, Mando!” 

A brief lesson in long-distance riding passed, and the Ugnaught helped them saddle and mount the Blurrg. The creatures had a sharp slope to their back which made riding more taxing, but a special saddle lessened the effort. Their shared Blurrg huffed in protest when Zakia neared, but it merely shuffled about. Mando extended a hand from its back, and the blonde firmly grasped onto him. She pushed off the ground, and Din used his strength to catapult her onto the animal behind him. They settled quickly, and followed their guide into the rocks of Arvala-7. They crossed long stretches of cracked ground and rocky cliffs, the Blurrg toddling about as their riders directed. 

It was at a cliff overlooking a circular clearing that the Ugnaught drew to a halt. Zakia peeked out from where she had been using Din’s cloak as a barrier between her back and the sun, squinting at the harsh light. She leaned around Mando, trying to catch a glimpse of the hideout. 

“That is where you will find your quarry.”

Din offered the Ugnaught a small stack of credits, but the creature shook his head. “Please. You deserve this.”

“Since these ones arrived, this territory has been an endless stream of mercenaries seeking reward and bringing destruction.” Their faithful guide looked out over the hideout, and Zakia used Mando’s shoulders as leverage so she could do the same. 

“Then why guide us?” 

“They do not belong here. Those that live here come to seek peace. There will be no peace until they’re gone.” The Ugnaught appeared sad as he spoke, and Zakia turned to him while keeping a hand on Mando’s hip to steady herself.

“Then why do you help?” 

A thoughtful look took over the normally neutral face of the small man. “I have never met a Mandalorian. I have only read the stories. If they are true, you will make quick work of it. Then there will again be peace.”

The other Blurrg spun as its ride tugged the reins. “I have spoken.”

As the alien moved away, Zakia shifted behind Din. “And I’m chopped liver.”

The pair placed themselves on a rocky protrusion, staying low to avoid detection. Zakia withdrew a pair of thermal binoculars and Mando followed suit with a small scope. She lost count while trying to assess the number of enemies. 

“There’s too many.” She muttered, lowering the binoculars. 

“Oh no.” Din groaned from beside her, and Zakia looked to him. 

“What is it?” 

Another glance through the scope and he answered: “Bounty droid.”

Zakia dropped her forehead against her arms. Bounty droids were, by far, one of the worst inventions. In her opinion. She did not share Mando’s severe aversion to droids, but she hated the bounty droids. Mindless machines created to take credits away from hardworking hunters like herself when she used to travel alone. “I hate those things.”

She watched the IG unit approach the hideout, its speakers blaring the pre-programmed surrender orders that were the same throughout all models. When one of the enemies- they appeared to be Nikto- lifted a blaster, the unit began firing. It took down several of the Nikto, though many escaped into the fortress of a building. 

Din stood, shaking his head. “Droids.”

Zakia rolled her eyes at his dramatics but stood, sliding down the rocky slope a few steps behind the Mandalorian. He followed the droid’s path in, but hid behind pillars as he did so. Zakia stayed low to the ground, using various barrels and crates for shelter. Both blasters drawn, she had them at the ready on either side. 

“IG unit! Stand down!” Din’s command was echoed by a blaster shot that ricocheted off his gleaming Beskar pauldron. Zakia scrambled for cover as Mando was tossed in the direction of her hiding place by the force of the droid’s shot.

“We’re in the Guild, you rusty pile!” Zakia snapped, snatching the tracking fob from Mando’s waist as he stood. She waved it around so the droid could see. 

“You are Guild members? I thought I was the only one on assignment.” The IG until’s monotone crackled out of its speakers like it needed an upgrade. 

“You thought wrong.” Zakia lowered the blasters, allowing Din to shove them both towards cover. The Mandalorian stuck his helmet out to watch the droid. 

“So much for the element of surprise!” He hissed. Zakia shook her head, but kept both blasters primed and drawn.

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.”

Zakia opened her mouth in what was doubtlessly going to be a loud and sarcastic remark, but Din held up a hand and swiveled to face their annoyingly by-the-book counterpart. 

“Unless I’m mistaken, your are, as of yet, empty-handed.” Mando growled. 

Almost childishly, the droid answered: “This is true.”

“I have a suggestion.” The Mandalorian made sure that Zakia was watching their back as he attempted negotiation with the droid. 

“Proceed.”

“We split the reward.” Din offered. Zakia turned to him in shock. He told her there was a camtono of Beskar waiting. There was no way he would endanger something so precious to Mandalorian culture. 

“This is acceptable.” 

Mando sighed, “Great. Now let’s regroup, out of harm’s way, and form a plan.”

Zakia knocked her head against the stone pillar as the droid began to chatter about merit, but quickly snapped to attention when blaster fire began. 

“Oh no. Alert. Alert. Alert.” 

Din lunged out from his hiding spot to shoot the droid’s assailant. Another came out firing from a compound door, and Zakia was quick to drop him in the threshold. They began making their way across the compound, attacks coming from every direction. 

“I’ll go high. You take out the ones on the ground.” Zakia exchanged a nod with Mando, and he yelled to the droid to move. Zakia took out most of the opponents using high ground to their advantage, while Mando and the droid focused on the ground assault. Zakia lowered a blaster once to shoot a Nikto who came careening out a door towards them, dropping him with a bolt hole in the head. They ended up ducking behind a wagon for cover, where Din withdrew his fob and checked the proximity to their target. A large utility door that was slid shut hid most of the compound’s insides, and the Mandalorian motioned to it. 

“He’s in there.”

“Affirmative.” The droid said. 

Both living hunters ran for cover behind more stable items, while the IG until remained in the open. Zakia might have some disdain for bounty droids, but she was impressed purely by the firepower and whirling machinery. Her and Din were separated by almost fifty feet, her behind a stack of thick crates and him with his back pressed into a stone wall. They fired off shots whenever the Nikto’s fire slowed, and the creature’s numbers seemed to steadily decrease. 

Mando was exchanging words with the droid- both of whom were too far for Zakia to hear, while she continued firing upon the Nikto whenever she had the chance. She saw Mando run for the utility door’s controls, pulling at the panel whilst the IG unit covered him. Zakia kept up her shooting, helping the droid distract the Nikto’s from Din’s actions. 

It became abundantly clear they were outnumbered. A Nikto dropped off the roof in front of Zakia, and she was quick to grab the dagger Din hid in her boot to slash at the creature’s throat. It choked momentarily before dropping, and she staggered back a few steps. She was still at least thirty paces from Din and the IG unit, who were back to back behind a stone wall. Zakia dropped to her knees, pressing her back into a stack of metal storage grates while she primed both blasters and replaced her dagger. 

“Shit.” She spat, hauling in breaths in an attempt to keep her nerves in check. They were vastly outnumbered, with no reasonable chance of escape. 

_ “We’re shooting our way out!”  _

Din’s voice was faint, barely audible over the chaos and blood rushing to her ears. Zakia leaned forward to watch her partner, who nodded in the direction of their enemies. She returned the gesture, swinging out from her post at the same time as Mando. 

She froze. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A heavy repeating blaster was hovering at the mouth of the compound, one Nikto hanging onto the controls. He began firing at their appearance, and all three hunters found themselves pinned into their hiding spots to dodge the heavy fire. Zakia looked across the open space to the Mandalorian and the droid, watching as Din gestured towards the E-Web. He noticed Zakia’s glance and pointed at the droid then in the direction of the repeater. 

“Drawing their fire. Got it.” Zakia nodded, and watched the IG across a short span of open space. The artilleryman immediately shot at the unit, and Zakia took the opportunity to peek above her crates and fire off two shots. One sent the gunner flying, and another took out the Nikto attempting to replace him. A grappling hook from the Mandaloraian’s armor shot out and hooked the blaster, spinning it back onto its owners. Zakia sped from her cover and hopped into the gunner position. Her slight form barely tipped the weapon’s hover matrix, but after she pushed the repeater its weight assisted her in spinning it. She aimed for each and every Nikto that was visible, spinning in a hard circle and keeping her finger tight on the trigger the whole time. The noise was almost unbearable and the recoil was enough to send her tumbling but she held on until no one else looked to be moving. 

Mando was crouched down behind her and the droid was laid up against a wall near the door Din and been fumbling with. Zakia raised a brow and stepped carefully from the E-Web’s base. The circle had cast a bit of dizziness over her senses, but her adrenaline was pumping. 

“Whew! Damn, that was crazy.” She rested her hands on her knees, pretending not to hear the chuckle that slipped through Mando’s voice modulator. 

“Well done.” The mechanical voice whirred up again, sounding even more broken than before. “I will disengage self-destruct initiative.” 

Zakia raised a brow under her headwrap. “Self-destruct?”

“He was trying to opt out when we got pinned.” Din told her, striding to the downed droid and helping pull to its feet. “You know, you’re not so bad. For a droid.”

“Agreed.” The robot replied. 

Zakia nodded. Despite their initial spat, the droid had assisted them greatly. His relative invulnerability compared to her and Mando had come in handy. “I also agree. You took a good hit, though, is everything-” She waved a hand from head to toe, “-functional?”

“Running a quick diagnostic.” 

The IG’s cylindrical head spun around once, and the whirring of computer parts echoed in the silent space. “It had missed my central wiring harness.”

“Is that good?” Din asked. 

Zakia, disregarding their usual job professionalism, stepped forward. “Yes, darling, that is good.” 

“The lady is correct.”

She could sense the eyeroll. 

“Well…” The Mandalorian drawled. “Now we just need to get the door open.” 

Zakia opted not to be the one firing the E-Web as they all debated using it as an impromptu way to bust down the door. Her ears were still ringing from the first go around with the gun, and she had no desire to swing around on it again. 

Thankfully in Mando’s hands, the door was opened quickly and efficiently. The IG until broke down the smoldering metal after it had been thoroughly shot apart. Zakia could smell the burning steel, wrinkling her nose and stepping in behind Din. She jumped in surprise as the Mandalorian drew his blaster and fired in quick succession, taking out an ambush before she could spot it. 

“Anyone else?”

No answer. 

They continued into the darkened room. It was full of discarded items and random tech that the Nikto obviously lacked the skills to use. Zakia wandered out on Mando’s left side, approaching a pallet of empty camtonos and a strange white container. It was covered partially with netting, and Zakia pushed it away gently. 

“Zakia,” Mando started, “It’s-”

She leapt back as the sides of the white container slid open, revealing a bundle of blankets hidden inside. Her jaw dropped as the contents became apparent. 

It was a child. 

The tiny form was green in color, with impossibly big eyes and ears. The ears were the length of its head, and the eyes watered nervously as she watched. It cooed softly at the blonde, reaching up tiny hands in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat, and her mouth moved like a fish out of water. She didn’t do children anymore.

Not since her own was taken from her. 

_ “Miss! Miss, you have to relax! We’ll take care of you.”  _

_ Zakia’s vision was blurred by tears and the red-headed healer stroked her face gently. The pain shooting from her stomach into her legs was near unbearable, and she was sure the blaster bolt tore her to pieces. _

_ “The Mandalorian- w-where is he?” She gasped for breath.  _

_ “Mandalorian?” The healer was frantically mixing some herbs together in a bowl, mashing them into a paste. “There was no Mandalorian when we found you. But you’re very hurt. Let me help you.” _

_ The woman’s voice had a soothing quality about it that Zakia couldn’t fight against. She went limp against the bed. A sting on her neck and the throbbing, radiating pain in her body began to slow.  _

_ “I need to do surgery to remove the debris. This potion will render you unconscious.” The healer brushed a hand over Zakia’s wild hair, bringing the mixing bowl close to her nose.  _

_ She shook her head, trying to get away from it. “You- you can’t cut- I’m-” _

_ “What is it?” The healer pulled the bowl away, allowing Zakia a final pure breath.  _

_ “I’m p-pregnant.” _

_ Her savior froze, and Zakia felt her hands feel her abdomen. She didn’t flinch as the woman gently moved her legs, but she did track her as soon as she was back in view. The red-head looked on the brim of tears herself, and bit her lip.  _

_ “I’m so sorry.” _

_ Zakia’s agonizing wail stopped as the potion was forced under her nose.  _

Zakia shook off the memory and turned back to Din, trying not to betray the emotion on her face. “T-this can’t be it. You said it was fifty years old.”

“Species age differently. Perhaps it could live for centuries.” The droid offered, stepping forward to examine the creature. “Sadly, we’ll never know.”

“No!” Din stopped the droid, while Zakia sat mute on the floor. Her normal sarcasm had abandoned her, and she knew the Mandalorian knew exactly what was wrong. “We’ll bring it in alive.”

“The commission was quite specific.” The droid said, pulling a blaster and aiming it past Zakia at the tiny bundle. “The asset was to be terminated.”

The Mandalorian was unmoving, but Zakia could see the fingers going for his blaster. He was too slow. 

A shot was fired, and the child cried out in fright. 

The IG dropped into a heap on the ground, smoke pouring from the hole in its head. Zakia dropped the blaster as soon as she’d fired, standing up. Her thoughts were swirling, clawing at one another like caged tigers. This thing was their bounty. It was a job. 

But it was a baby. 

Mando stepped forward, and Zakia swallowed thickly. She couldn’t do more than stare at her blaster as it laid on the floor. 

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t let it-” She stuttered, but Mando spared her the embarrassment. His gloved hand reached out and wrapped around the back of her neck in a strange gesture of comfort. 

“I know.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Part IV: Trapped

Nightfall was upon the odd trio before they could get to the Razor Crest. 

After an ambush by four Trandoshan warriors in the canyon leading away from the compound, Din and Zakia settled for licking their wounds on a small sleeping roll with one lantern before them. The fight had ended in their favor, with the four inexperienced warriors being no match for a Mandalorian and highly trained mercenary. Their reason for attacking was what concerned the hunters. 

“We weren’t the only one with fobs.” Din sighed as he sat himself near the fire. 

Zakia, having been silent since terminating IG-11, simply nodded. She felt hollow. It was a feeling that hadn’t been thrust upon her in years, not since the incident with her own child. Her two personalities- one a bounty hunter and the other a damaged human with ridiculous baggage- fought for dominance. 

She snuck a glance in the child’s direction, and it cooed as soon as she was paying attention. The green monster sat upright in its bassinet, staring over the lip with sad eyes. It seemed to know something was wrong, but Zakia refused to tend to it. She bit her lip and turned back to her Mandalorian, desperate to distract herself. 

“Let me see your arm.” She said softly. 

Din watched her carefully through the visor, checking for any sign of tears or outward emotion. He knew good and well why she was upset, and he couldn’t say the sight of the child hadn’t taken him aback as well. They shared every parent’s worst nightmare. Trudged through the slums of wrecked cycles and hormones together. Din had held Zakia, even when she had cried in sorrow and beat against his chestplate. When she blamed him and their life for their loss. And she had comforted him when the realization that their child was no more had actually set in. In spite of all of the emotion, he refused to pity her and do things for her on this job. Din knew she was hurting, but he knew even better how much Zakia hated pity. She would ball it up and throw it back in his face if he dared provide it.

“It needs to be cauterized.” Mando told her, removing his pauldron and setting it on the ground. The wound was from a knife, and stretched several centimeters across his upper arm, so he moved his sleeve out of the way best he could. Din sat facing the lantern with his legs outstretched, and Zakia rotated so her crossed legs were pressed sideways against him and she had clear access to his wound. 

“Where’s the pen?” She asked softly, one hand dropping to his thigh and rubbing gently beneath his armor. 

He provided the requested device, and braced himself for the electric pain he knew was coming. Zakia switched the tool on and neared his flesh, muttering a soft apology before starting. Din sucked in a breath, but remained still. 

“I’m trying to hurry.” Zakia murmured over the sparking tool, hands cool and refreshing on his hot skin. 

“You’re okay.” Din said. 

She continued working, using the tool to meld his flesh back together. Zakia was almost through when her hand jerked and the cauterizing pen shocked against intact skin. Din cursed and recoiled away from her. 

“Zakia!” He snapped without thought. “What- oh.”

Din tilted his helmet to the side, looking at Zakia’s side where the child stood quietly. It had one hand lifted towards his wounded arm, the other on her knee to help push itself up. The blonde was frozen, chewing on her lip nervously. Taking it as a cue to step in, Din climbed to his feet and snatched the child up. His arm protested every move, but it was minimal enough that Din didn’t flinch. He deposited the kid back into the bassinet and took up his original spot beside Zakia. 

“I didn’t mean to jerk, I’m sorry.”

Din shook his head, “Just finish it, please.”

She nodded quietly and did as he said. After the wound was cauterized and bacta was applied, Zakia dug out an old and cracked sewing kit from Mando’s pack and fixed the shirt overtop. Her small hands replaced his pauldron, lingering on his shoulder. 

“All done.”

Din dipped his head. “Thank you.”

Zakia gave him a tight smile. She pulled out all of her weapons, and began to clean them methodically as Din pulled his chestplate off. The connections had been damaged during their time fighting earlier in the day, and he was attempting to solder the split connections. He kept an eye on Zakia as she sat beside him and cleaned the dust from her blasters, the solemn look on her face beginning to worry him more. 

“Again?”

Zakia sighed from beside him, closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the sky. The child was at her side again, reaching for Din’s arm. The blonde scooched away from it, but at Din’s look stopped. 

“I got it.” She moved to grab the child, but Din held up a hand. He knew she was trying to avoid becoming attached to the toddler, and didn’t want to make it any harder. 

The Mandalorian was up and replacing the child before Zakia could, pressing the small button to close the cradle. Zakia watched him, bottom lip curled into her teeth as she gnawed on it. Din returned to his spot and sat, exhaling heavily. 

“I know you’re thinking about our child.” He got straight to the point, knowing Zakia would be on him if he didn’t. “And I’m sorry if I’ve been difficult.”

Zakia sniffed, setting her weapons to the side and occupying her hands by taking Din’s chestplate from him. She maneuvered herself to sit in front, hands reaching out towards the fasteners on his chest.

“It’s not your fault, Din.” She started, “This child is our job, and I don’t want it to cloud my judgement.”

He let his upper body move as Zakia tugged at stubborn straps and twisted fraying wires between her fingers. “You’re not a droid, Zakia.”

She halted, hands still on his chest. Her icy eyes stared into the black of his visor. “I’m just frustrated. And tired after everything today.”

Zakia omitted her feelings about children from her statement and turned away from Din, stretching out on the small bedroll. Her head was pillowed onto her arms as if to sleep, but he knew better. She was going to tear herself up about the child until they were done with this job.

“It’s an enemy. Think of it that way.”

Din wished he could believe his own words. 

They awoke early the next morning and trekked on in the hot sun. 

Zakia tugged at her headwrap, adjusting the fabric on her face. Not only did it provide protection from the sun, but mercifully blocked the floating bassinet from her peripheral vision. She was trying to maintain professionalism and refrain from making any sort of connection with the tiny green alien but it was harder than necessary. The child had a constant urge to coo in her direction, and its little hands generally pointed towards her. Zakia ignored the gesticulations, continuing on beside Mando.

They walked for what seemed like eons, following the directions provided by Mando’s HUD. Zakia adjusted her weapons and kicked at the sand, stopping when Mando did and always surveying the horizon for threats. It wasn’t until they found a rocky outcrop above the one the Crest was perched on that any noise permeated the sound of their footsteps. Zakia’s jaw snapped shut as she looked on, turning to Mando to gauge his reaction. 

“Jawas.” She muttered. 

There was a whole clan, waddling about around what remained of the Crest. The thieves had stripped the ship to its bare bones, and they took turns hauling pieces up the ramp of their sandcrawler. Mando didn’t speak, only released the rifle from his shoulder and knelt down. Zakia recognized the disruptor slugs he slid into the weapon, and stood behind him as he looked through the scope. 

“Be ready to move.” He grunted. Three shots followed his words, each punctuated by the sound of Mando reloading. Zakia watched three Jawas disintegrate, and the rest scattered with anxious squeals and frantic gibberish. Her stomach lurched at the thought of being stuck on Arvala-7, but she wouldn’t let herself dwell on it. 

Mando scrambled to his feel, pulling a chipi from his vambrace and fastening it into Zakia’s blaster holster. “Keep the kid.”

Her mouth opened with intent to argue, but she couldn’t get a word in before Mando was sliding down the rocky cliff and chasing after the sandcrawler. Zakia threw her hands in the air, looking over the edge at the rough ground. 

“ _ Stay with the kid.”  _ She mocked, but turned in Mando’s direction as his shape grew smaller. He was halfway across the huge valley already. “What are you gonna do, stop a sandcrawler?!” 

Her annoyed shouting failed to reach the ears of anyone but the child, who replied with a soft whine. The bassinet remained with her, and moved slightly as she paced the cliff. Zakia tried to ignore the child’s giggles, and resorted to climbing down the rocks. 

“Freakin’ Mandalorian.” Zakia muttered, scrabbling for footholds on the sand. “Freakin’ Jawas.”

She continued her muttering until she reached the bottom. Zakia made her way to the Razor Crest, eyes taking in each and every missing piece and panel. Wires hung limply from the ceiling, and some lines sparked dangerously close to her head. She ducked away from the offending sounds, and cursed when she saw her belongings gone as well. The arms cabinet was cleaned out. She sat on the stripped bunk, rubbing her temples. 

“Typical.” Zakia sighed. 

A babble tore her away from her thoughts, and she looked up as a tiny green form toddled up the hatch and moved towards her. The child gazed curiously, touching every safe and non-sparking surface it could. Zakia was going to chew a hole through her lip if she didn’t stop.

“I guess it's you and me, huh?” She scuffed the toe of her boot against the metal floor. 

The baby cooed, drawing closer. It watched her closely like it was hoping to touch her but scared she would lash out. Zakia’s heart jumped to her throat as her brain blanked. She couldn’t help but imagine if this was her child- not that a child procured from her and Din would be green. What if her child had survived? Got lost with no one to protect it?

Zakia tracked down a spare pen and piece of paper fluttering about the ship, and scribbled a note for Mando. She knew he’d come back to the ship. The child watched her curiously, and Zakia tried not to notice until she was finished writing. 

“Well, kid. I guess we go back to the Ugnaught, yeah?”

Zakia made it back to the Ugnaught’s home just before dusk. He expressed his surprise at her state of living, but insisted she called him Kuiil and make herself comfortable. The child had escaped its cradle, but wandered harmlessly about the small hut. 

“Your companion also made it out?”

Zakia dipped her head as Kuiil handed her a cup of tea and surveyed the child. “Yes. Jawas tore apart our ship, and he chased after the sandcrawler. A fool’s errand if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I agree. The Jawa will require a trade to return parts.” The old man tinkered about his workbench, lifting a handheld soldering iron. “I need to repair my windmill’s control. You are welcome to come enjoy the sunset.”

She accepted the invitation, herding the child out into the fresh night air. It cooed up at her, and Zakia felt her stomach twist. Any sound it made sent her into some buried, motherly frenzy that she tried with all of her might to suppress. She supposed it was ingrained in her subconscious, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t squash it until it suffocated. 

“You are scared of this child?” Kuiil asked as he neared the ladder attached to his windmill. 

Zakia flushed. Was it that obvious she was trying to avoid it?

“I’m just treating it as a bounty. Nothing more.” Zakia sat on the dusty ground, back leaning against the entrance of Kuiil’s house. 

“I sense something deeper.” The Ugnuaght seemed to catch himself. “Though I know some things are of personal concern alone.”

Relenting to her wave of emotion, she turned to Kuiil. “I lost one. A child. Almost two full years ago.”

“I am sorry.” He turned to once again eyeball the small creature. “I understand this must be very difficult for you.”

Zakia shrugged. “It’s not as much about the child, I’m just… angry at my own mind, I suppose. It has been many cycles since my loss, and I can’t stop thinking about it now. I rarely do, normally. But since we found it, the memory is all I see.”

Kuiil sighed heavily. “I haven’t always been alone. But the loss of someone so close- it never fades. Once one becomes a parent, they never stop.”

“I’m sorry. For whoever you lost. I can’t imagine being alone in a place like this.” Zakia kept one eye on the toddler as it pawed at the dirt but stayed within eyesight.

“I am happy in this place. The fear of being alone seems to be yours, yes?”

Kuiil’s words sliced her like a knife. The scar on her face seemed to sting at the approximation, and she nodded. “I suppose it is. I used to be alone all the time. I hunted by myself, even during some lasting conflicts after the war. Everything has just been so different since the miscarriage.”

Kuiil rubbed his small hands together. Zakia was surprised just how much he was helping her unfold the mess of her mind. “May I ask a personal question?”

Zakia nodded once in consent. She was never one to decline wisdom or counsel from elders. 

“The Mandalorian. He was the father?”

She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. A nod followed. “He was.”

“Have you discussed this with him?” 

Zakia dipped her head. “He knows why I keep my distance from the child. Mando is just- he’s better at compartmentalizing things than I am. He will have no problem turning in the bounty.”

Kuill shook his head, finally gripping the rungs of his ladder. “Not about this child. About yours. About your fear of being alone.”

“Like I said. Things have been different since we lost the baby. He comforted me then, but we were always close. We keep distance while on the job, but after I recovered physically we weren’t quite the same. We’re still together, it’s just- it’s different than it was.” Zakia cleared her throat after she spoke, trying not to let her tears escape. 

“Then perhaps you should try and right things. Men are not as intuitive as you’d like to believe, I’m afraid.” Kuiil took two steps up the ladder rungs and turned to Zakia. “I have spoken.”

And she cried.

It was something she hadn’t done in a very long time. Her walls caved suddenly and the tidal waves they had been holding back crashed over her consciousness like a tsunami on the ocean dunes of Karnak. Zakia thought of the child they lost and of Din. Of everything they had lost when it happened. They had both pushed each other away. They were still lovers, still together, but Zakia yearned for the way it used to be. 

The child looked at her, concerned about the tears. She swallowed her guilt and held out a hand, sniffling as the child blinked at it. He plucked at her fingers gently before waddling away after a bug, disinterested in her outstretched digits. A small chuckle fought its way up her throat, and she dropped her head back against the hut. Kuiil’s work produced a soothing hum that reminded her of being aboard the Crest, and she closed her eyes, drifting into an in-between state of relaxation her body was urging her into. 

“Someone nears.” 

Kuiil’s gruff voice reached her ears after what seemed like only a couple minutes of shut-eye, but her stiff joints indicated it had been quite a bit more. She squinted in the pale light of dusk, watching a familiar figure cross the desert ground. 

Mando. 

Still overrun by emotion from her conversation with Kuiil, she scrambled to her feet and ran to meet him by the base of the windmill. He paused when she came running, tensing himself for a fight. 

But Zakia didn’t stop. She ran straight into his arms, renewed sobs shaking her body at the sight of him. Everything her and Kuill had talked about bounced around her skull, and her arms hugged Din’s neck tightly. Zakia hid her face in the dirty, sweat-smelling fabric of his cowl but she didn’t mind. Din was her person- the one constant in her life since she had lost their last chance at normalcy. 

He was obviously surprised, stiff and unmoving. One hand lifted to brace her lower back, but he remained stoic otherwise. They usually refrained from this type of contact while working, but the sobs that overtook her outweighed his professional concerns. “Zakia? Zakia, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head against his neck. “I’m scared, Din. S-scared of losing you, of l-losing anything else. And I haven’t b-been the same since our baby.” Zakia breathed heavily, “I wouldn’t trade our life for anything, but I miss you.”

A chill ran down his spine at the mention of their child, and Zakia’s broken voice cut him to his absolute core beneath the armor. His eyes lifted to Kuiil, who stood at the top of the windmill with an approving gaze. The Ugnaught nodded once, and went back to soldering. Din’s mouth went dry and his eyes stung beneath the helmet. But he understood. Some exchange must have happened between her and the old man that stirred the pot of emotions that bad been brewing. 

“I don’t know what happened tonight-” Din returned the embrace, arms wrapping tightly around Zakia’s quivering abdomen. “-but you know I’m with you. Always.”

Her head lifted from his shoulder, and her hands came up to hold either side of his helmet. Zakia’s glacial eyes pierced through his visor like a laser, and he was thankful she couldn’t see the tears that were undoubtedly building behind his own eyes. Her fingers drummed on the beskar as if it was his skin. 

“I love you.” She told him quietly. 

Din didn’t have to verbally return her statement to express his feelings. He ducked his head so the visor was pressed into her shoulder. The tribulations of the day finally set in, and the exhaustion was creeping into every part of his battered body. It wasn’t often they interacted like this with an audience, but whatever the Ugnaught had said to Zakia opened a door that had been long shut in their relationship. 

“Come on. Kuiil knows how to get your parts back.”

  
  
  



	5. Part V: Battle

They traveled through the night to find the Jawa’s sandcrawler. It rained heavily for most of the journey, and Zakia was grateful for Din’s water repellent cloak. His own clothing was water resistant but she couldn’t say the same. Thankfully, Arvala-7 wasn’t too temperamental of a planet, and the searing sun returned early in the morning. It dried out her hair and clothing, and Zakia tied the blonde mess into one knot on the crown of her head. The child was in his bassinet towards the rear of their convoy, lid closed as it slept on. Her and Din sat side by side on the wagon behind Kuiil’s blurrg. The Mandalorian had his disruptor rifle laid across his thighs, and his body was tense. They had both got minimal sleep during the ride, as the rain made it difficult to relax. 

As the Ugnaught guided the blurrg towards the small encampment the Jawas had constructed, they began chattering anxiously. They aimed strange, wide-barrel blasters in their direction, and Kuiil turned to his guests. 

“They really don’t like you for some reason.”

Zakia snorted, nudging Mando with her leg. “That may be because he disintegrated some of them.”

The Jawas grew more frantic the closer they got. 

“You need to drop your rifle.” Kuiil urged. 

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are a part of my religion.” Din returned, fingers tightening around the chamber. Zakia pursed her lips. 

“I don’t think they’re going to do anything if you keep it.” She said, watching the hooded creatures as Kuiil attempted to greet them. 

“Zakia is correct.” The Ugnaught concurred. “You will not get your parts back.” 

After a pregnant pause, Mando set the rifle to his side. “Fine.”

Zakia hopped from the small wagon, stretching her shoulders and stiff back. The child, blinking away sleep and cooing softly watched her with his doe eyes. He pulled himself out of the bassinet and perched near the edge of the cart, the lip preventing him from moving any further. Zakia watched a moment to make sure he would not fall out and get damaged- they didn’t want their payment altered- and awaited Mando as he dragged himself out of the wagon. 

The Jawa remained persistent though, pointing their weapons in Din’s direction and chattering at the Ugnaught. Their guide turned, looking at the Mandalorian. 

“And the blaster.” Kuiil motioned to Din’s leg where the aforementioned weapon hung. 

The Mandalorian stared for a moment before looking at Zakia and pointing- rather childishly- at her own blasters. “What about hers?”

Kuiil said something to the creatures, who simply shrugged and squeaked a few words back. A chuckle came from their short companion, and Mando’s eyes narrowed beneath the helmet. 

“They say she is a pretty lady. She may keep hers as long as they remain in the holsters.” The Ugnaught shot a rather amused look in Din’s direction before turning and approaching the clan. 

Zakia couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She rounded the Mandalorian to stand directly in front of him. A hand slipped to his thigh, brushing against his leg in an annoyingly slow fashion to unclip the weapon. 

“Don’t worry, Mando.” She pulled the blaster from his holster and threw a wink towards his visor. “I’ll keep it safe.”

Mando grumbled under his breath as she shoved the blaster into the rear waistband of her pants, covering it with the bottom of her tunic. Zakia was pulling herself back into her regular routine of sarcasm and peppiness, and Din credited the development to her emotional outpouring the night before. 

He didn’t have time to debate her actions further as Kuiil waved them forward, the Jawa having deemed him safe to approach. Din followed Zakia, allowing her to have the seat beside Kuiil. He sat to her left, folding his long limbs into submission beneath him. Zakia shoved stubborn curls out of her face and gave a flirty smile in the Jawas’ direction. They squealed before turning back to Kuiil and speaking rapidly. 

The old man turned to them. “They will trade all the parts for the beskar.”

Zakia rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”

“I’m not gonna trade anything. These are my parts.” Din growled. “They stole them from me.”

The head Jawa prattled at the trio, and Mando stuttered out something in Jawaese that even Zakia could tell wasn’t right. She tugged the elastic from her hair in an attempt to re-fasten it, but was bombarded by tiny hands. Though it surprised her, she laughed aloud and tugged her blonde curls away from the assailants. 

Mando swiveled in their direction and hissed in Jawa again, but Zakia laid a hand on his leg and shook her head. “It’s fine.”

The Mandalorian relaxed fractionally and turned back to the leader, who was giggling maniacally. It pointed at the warrior and more laughs erupted as it spoke. Zakia understood nothing but ‘Wookiee’, but it must have been insulting. 

“You understand this?” Mando thrust his arm forward, flames shooting forth from his gauntlet. Zakia ducked down, a panicked noise escaping her that almost sounded like the terrified Jawas. 

“Woah! Easy, easy.” Kuiil grasped his arm, and Zakia shot up. 

Their hooded friends all popped up slowly, red eyes darting back and forth to check for a second assault. 

“Mando!” The blonde smacked his exposed arm, but suppressed a smile at his radical actions. “Do you want your parts back or not?”

The exhaustion was beginning to show. She kept her hand resting firmly on Mando’s vambrace, preventing him from lifting it again. Zakia didn’t expect him to, but she let it remain there nonetheless as a gesture of comfort. They waited as Kuiil spoke back and forth rapidly with the hooded beings. Their conversation paused as the leader pointed behind them at the child, where two Jawa were poking at it. 

“Get away from it!” Mando snapped. The two offenders screeched and took off, tripping over one another to get away. 

Kuiil kept up the conversation, obviously trying to drive a fair bargain for them. 

“ _ Mon Sue-kah!”  _ They began chanting. It was repetitive, broken up by only a few other words. Kuiil facepalmed almost comically, and Zakia leaned into Mando’s side. The beskar helmet tilted in her direction.

“ _ Mon Sue-kah,  _ what’s that?” She asked quietly. Her uttering of the word sent them into a frenzy once again, and her eyes widened at their enthusiasm. 

“ _ The egg _ .” Din murmured, turning to Kuiil. “Egg? What egg?”

They only continued chanting. “ _ Sue-kah! Sue-kah! Sue-kah!”  _

Not long after, they were ushered into the sandcrawler and up to the control room. Kuiil remained in the back, talking shop with one of the larger Jawas. Zakia and Din were near the windscreen, watching the massive ship traverse uneven terrain. The child was on the far side of Din, bobbing happily in its bassinet as the Jawas poked at him curiously. Zakia was seated relatively comfortably, her petite size allowing some leeway between her head and the ceiling. Din wasn’t so lucky- he was crouched over on himself, mumbling about their predicament. 

“It could be worse.” Zakia offered, looking to the Jawas near the child. 

The only thing they offered back was a loud exclamation of “ _ Sue-kah!”  _

“The egg! Yes, I’ve heard.” Zakia said. The hooded thieves didn’t understand a word, but her feigned enthusiasm had them laughing and cheering.

A sudden bump sent Din’s head careening into the ceiling, the beskar ringing painfully off their steel vehicle. The entire room was full of high-pitched laughter, and Zakia shook her head. “This is going to be a long day.”

They arrived almost an hour later, the sandcrawler drawing to a halt. The two humans and their charge were herded down to the hatch, where Din descended to the muddy ground below. The whole basin they had stopped in seemed to be sloppy from the rain, and Zakia wrinkled her nose. 

“Great.” She stepped into the mud, but Din held up a hand in front of her. 

“You’re not coming with me.” He ordered. 

“Excuse me?” Zakia stopped in her tracks and looked up Mando, “After everything the past-”

Din waved off her argument. “Don’t. Listen, take my rifle up there-” he pointed to high ground above where the animal’s den was supposed to be, “-and watch my back. Please.”

Zakia chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment before holding her hands out. “Alright, hand it over.”

He did just that, pulling his bandolier off and hanging it around Zakia’s shoulders. The slugs settled as a comfortable weight around her, and she nodded. 

“Be careful?”

Mando nodded briskly, turning on his heel to face his innominate enemy. Zakia merely huffed before heading for the cliffside. She scaled it with relative ease, and continued along its edge until she found the optimal viewpoint. 

“Alright, Din.” She said to no one in particular, “Let’s get in and out of here.”

Zakia pulled the gravity stabilizers off of Mando’s bandolier, setting two on the ground and two on the bottom of the rifle so it would hover securely above the ground and give her the best shot possible. She adjusted the stock uncomfortably against her shoulder, cursing the custom wood. It was made to fit Mando’s shape and pauldrons, therefore making her use clunky and slow in comparison. 

She took a few moments to focus the scope in and find Din. He was halfway across the circular clearing, the child’s bassinet following him a few feet behind. It remained across the muddy circle as Mando approached the den in which the beast apparently dwelled, and Zakia swept the scope from him to the giant hole in the ground. Her heart thudded at the sight, and her fingers tightened around the trigger guard. Whatever this thing was, it had to be big to make a burrow of that magnitude. 

Once the Mandalorian disappeared inside, Zakia held her breath. There was no noise, no roar. It was plain silence for a few moments, and the blonde adjusted her grip on the rifle. She lifted her head to watch outside the scope. The child remained in its cradle, seeming to watch just as intently as she. 

The the firing started. 

“Shit.” Zakia growled. The telltale red flashes of blaster fire lit up the darkened cave entrance. She watched something launch out of the den, and recognized the shape to be Mando after a few seconds observation. He landed in the mud, covering his armor and gear in brown goo. Through the scope, she could see his chestplate barely hanging onto his chest and sparking pitifully.

“Get up, Din.” She muttered, turning the crosshairs onto the cave entrance. 

It emerged slowly- starting with a large, ivory horn that was probably as long as Zakia was tall. It had long, shaggy hair sprouting from a ridiculously muscular body that more than likely outweighed everyone on the planet combined. 

“A mudhorn? Seriously?” Zakia kept the rifle ready, using the sights to watch Din fumble with his blaster. He tapped at the weapon, which she assumed was jammed by the mud he had been thrown into. 

The beast wasted no time charging again, tossing Din across the clearing like a ragdoll. Zakia flinched and aimed at the mudhorn, pulling the trigger as the crosshairs settled on its leg. She frowned when it roared in pain, but didn’t disintegrate as she had hoped. Zakia looked at the rifle, and then to the bandolier around her. 

“Wrong slugs. Damn.” She knew the rifle was a powerful weapon, but without the disruptor cartridges it used regular slugs. Which would barely penetrate the mudhorn’s skin from her distance. 

Zakia growled and reloaded, focusing on the battle beneath her. The baby had been thrust across the clearing, and the mudhorn was pulling itself out of a heap near a muddy slope. It turned back to Din’s direction, front foot scraping at the mud in a universal threat. Zakia aimed at the beast’s neck this time, pulling the trigger and watching the animal recoil sharply. 

Unfortunately, her attempt at slowing it down only served to piss it off. It charged Din, dipping its head down and using it to flatten the Mandalorian into the mud. Zakia bit her lip to keep from crying out, thankful to see the flamethrower burst from Din’s gauntlet. The fire deterred the mudhorn for a few seconds, but the effort was for nil when the cartridge ran out. 

Zakia had a strong urge to abandon her post and join her partner in the clearing, but she knew it wouldn’t do them any good. Din was still getting beaten to a pulp by the beast- his grappling hook shot from his vambrace to loop around the mudhorn’s head. It pulled him around the clearing, and Zakia could see the Mandalorian’s futile attempts to gain footing. The cable broke and he fell into the mud, once again getting thrown across the clearing. 

“Dammit!” Zakia yelled. She squinted through the sights, firing off two shots as the beast paced. Mando lay unmoving near the mouth of the cave, the only sign of life his heat signature in the rifle’s sights.

But her shooting seemed to rouse him and Mando staggered to his feet, armor broken and falling apart. He reached for the only remaining weapon, which happened to be a vibroknife, and held it before in. Zakia paused, looking over the scope. 

There was nothing else. 

“Mando, get out!” She yelled. 

His helmet inclined slightly at her command, but he didn’t move. The beast charged, coming at Mando full speed once again. Zakia scrambled to her knees and grabbed the rifle and stabilizers. She was about to slide down the cliff when a roar reached her ears. Zakia spun back towards the fight, knees scraping against the rocks. 

“What in the…” Zakia couldn’t put it into words. 

The mudhorn was floating. 

Hovering a body’s width above the ground, legs moving as if it was running across the ground. Zakia had to remind herself to breathe, and she returned the rifle sights to her eye. Din was standing now, and his head rotated to the bassinet. Zakia followed his eyeline with the scope, heart skipping as she saw the child. She dialed in the zoom until it was clear. The child was near the edge of the cradle, one arm outstretched in the direction of the mudhorn. Zakia swung the sights back and forth between the mudhorn and the child. 

It was incredible. 

The animal flailed about in the air for several more moments, but came crashing down at the same time the child dropped back into its bassinet. Disoriented and unable to stand correctly, the mudhorn stumbled about for a few seconds. Zakia took its stillness to her advantage and upped the zoom. The crosshairs came to a slow halt on the mudhorn’s eye, and she exhaled as she pulled the trigger.

The shot shattered the quiet that had settled after the child’s actions. Din waved a thankful hand in Zakia’s direction and used the mudhorn’s foreleg to get back on his feet. Just for good measure, he thrust the vibroknife into its neck and twisted. It was probably unnecessary, but Din was not about to take any further chances. 

Zakia clambered to her knees and pulled the strap on Mando’s bandolier to tighten it around her torso. After shouldering the rifle, she slid down the muddy embankment. Mando was slouched when she made it to him, chestplate still hanging at a broken angle and randomly sparking. 

“Din!” Zakia ignored the mud covering his body and slid his arm over her shoulders. The Mandalorian leaned into her warmth, allowing her to take some of his weight 

“T-The kid…” He managed, pointing towards the bassinet. 

Zakia nodded, looking up at his beaten helmet. “I saw.” 

The both approached the child. It slept fitfully in the cradle, and remained that way even after the duo fetched the disgusting, hair-covered egg for the Jawas. Din leaned heavily on Zakia as they trudged through the deep mud, but did better supporting himself once they made it back onto more solid ground. He took a moment to crush his chestplate back into a manageable position and tap at his battered vambraces. The tethered cradle floated behind them eerily, and the strange aura surrounding the group kept all of them relatively quiet. 

“What is that thing?” Zakia murmured, tipping her head towards the child. 

“I don’t know. But it’s powerful.” Din replied. His voice was strained, and she could tell he was ready for bed. He had been exhausted before the Jawas tore apart the ship, let alone after everything else they’d been through. 

When they topped the hill where the sandcrawler had stopped, the back hatch was lifting closed. Kuiil remained outside, yelling excitedly to the Jawas that had been preparing to leave. 

“Mando! Zakia!”

Mando, egg under one arm and Zakia supporting the other, heaved a breath. “I have it. I’ve got the egg.” 

The Jawas ran down the hatch, swarming around them to grasp at the egg. Some poked at Zakia again, searching for her blonde curls. She laughed as Mando relinquished the egg and watched the little creatures prod at her back. 

“Watch it.” The Mandalorian half-heartedly barked, arm sliding from Zakia’s shoulder to her waist. He tugged her closer despite the pain shooting through his body.

The Jawas didn’t squeal at his aggression this time, too busy fussing over the egg as their leader lifted it above his head. 

“ _ Sue-kah!”  _

They all chanted about the egg, and Zakia looked up at Mando. “You think they raise it? It’d make a hell of a guard animal.”

The Mandalorian let out a short laugh. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

The Jawa calling the shots handed the egg off, and withdrew a small machete.. It swung sharply down, slicing the top from the egg. 

“Oh.” Zakia wrinkled her nose as the same Jawa dipped a hand in and tasted the yellow yolk. “Gross.”

All the Jawas participated, pushing and shoving for a taste. Mando turned away, shaking his head. Zakia gagged, and Din squeezed her hip gently. 

“I don’t think they’re raising it.”

“You don’t say.”

Until they were out of earshot from any wandering Jawas, their journey back to Kuiil’s remained silent.. The wagon was stacked with everything from the Razor Crest, plus Din and Zakia. The child was still sleeping, the bassinet floating along beside them. 

Din had told Kuiil what happened during his battle with the mudhorn, and the Ugnaught seemed strangely interested in the occurence. They all were, but Kuiil especially. It was quiet for a few minutes after the story, until the old man spoke again. 

“Is it still sleeping?”

Zakia was perched on the crate they had rode on initially, while Din used it as a backrest. His helmet tipped forward, and a gloved hand gripped the edge of the cradle to give it a soft shake.

“Yes.” Zakia called back, sparing Din the effort. 

The Ugnaught remained silent for only a moment. “Was it injured?”

The Mandalorian shifted so one knee was bent, and he rested his arm upon it. “I don’t think so. Not physically.”

Kuiil nodded, and stole a glance back at his guests. 

“Tell me what happened again. I still don’t understand.” 

Zakia looked down at her partner, whose head bobbed about in pure exhaustion. 

“Neither do I.”

* * *

Despite initially disagreeing upon how long it would take to fix the damage done to the Razor Crest, Kuiil and Mando worked tirelessly to repair it. Between Din’s knowledge of his own ship and Kuiil’s mechanical skills, it was progressing quickly. 

Zakia was taking the time to observe their bounty since she was next to useless when it came to anything mechanical. The child was still sleeping, eyes remaining shut throughout the pounding and welding coming from the ship. She wrung her fingers as she approached the cradle, blue eyes scanning over the baby. It was adorable, there was no denying that. Its big eyes gave it an outstanding childish appearance, even in sleep. The ears multiplied its cute factor, accenting just how small he actually was. 

She was running the back of two fingers down the soft skin before she realized it, and Zakia pulled away as if she had been burned when her brain caught up. But then the same organ made her remember. It levitated the mudhorn. 

And it wasn’t for its own self-preservation- the child did it to protect Din. Zakia chewed on her lip, ignoring the already torn apart flesh that stung as she continued her habit. She couldn’t hate something that saved her partner. It didn’t seem to be evil, but it was a target. A bounty. 

As if sensing her discomfort, the baby’s face scrunched together. It was whining in its sleep, and Zakia sucked in a deep breath. On her own accord this time, she extended a hand to hold over its abdomen and soothe the dreams away.

“Sh, sh. It’s alright, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

It was a blatant lie. Notwithstanding the fib, Zakia continued to coax the child away from its nightmares. 

_ ‘Though I think we might be taking you into one’ _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Part VI: Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow pacing, next chapter will be sure to pick it up again :)

After leaving Kuiil and piloting the now fully-functioning Razor Crest out of Arvala-7’s atmosphere, the ship’s adult occupants wandered bleary-eyed into the cargo hold. Mando tethered the child’s bassinet just outside their quarters, taking a brief second to ensure he was still sleeping. Confirming the little green monster was indeed unconscious, Din hobbled into the cramped sleeping space. He could hear the sad excuse of a shower running as Zakia cleaned her hair and skin, and took the opportunity to remove his helmet. 

Nearly four whole days underneath his armor had left Din with matted hair and skin caked in dried sweat and grime. He reeked of mudhorn no matter how many times he got rained on, and his armor was a lost cause completely. Its integrity was shattered. Reaching up a hand, he rubbed at his chin and grimaced. Growing facial hair had never been a talent, and the knowledge it was there made his skin itch. He supposed it was time to shave when Zakia was finished. His body screamed for sleep, but there was no way he was getting into bed covered in such filth. 

Din replaced his helmet when the shower switched off, wishing that he didn’t have to. He considered the real implications of Zakia knowing his face every day. Would the Mandalorians find out? Come for him if he tried to replace it? Though Mando held too much respect for the Creed to break it, he had found loopholes to allow the closeness he shared with Zakia. It was the farthest thing from a conventional relationship, but undressing and sleeping in a pitch-black bunk was how they made do. Mando couldn’t possibly count the hours Zakia had spent stroking fingers across his cheekbones and face, mapping it out in her mind. She asked him what color hair he had sometimes, and it burned him to leave it a mystery. 

He wanted her to  _ see  _ him. 

Zakia was more than ready for a breakthrough in their relationship- whatever occured between her and their Ugnaught friend had done wonders. Zakia was opening up to him again. It wasn’t as if they had been totally closed off, but as she’d said: things were....  _ Different _ . Different since the day he carried her beaten body away from the flustered, repeatedly-apologizing healer on Felucia. Zakia had been unable to walk that day. Her blank stare and mute gestures were permanently branded into Mando’s brain , and he dwelled on the thought.

_ “Sir, she is severely wounded.” _

_ Din paced outside a small stone door, boots wearing a path into the grass outside. A red-headed healer stood in front of him, wringing her hands together nervously.  _

_ “She lost a child!” It had been a long time since Din had used such a tone, but his heart was beating out of his chest. Fear clawed at all five senses, and something else was creeping up his gullet. Something foreign and protective, wailing to be let out. _

_ “I’m very sorry, Sir.” The healer was quivering slightly, but stood her ground.  _

_ An impressive feat, considering the Mandalorian who was armed to the teeth and twice her height.  _

_ “Let me see her.” Manda reached for the door handle, and the healer nodded.  _

_ “Positives only. Her body is wounded, but her mind is in ribbons. Losing an unborn child can be incredibly difficult.”  _

_ Din nodded, twisting the doorknob and nudging his way inside. The room was a soft peach color, with sheer drapes and a large bed against the center of one wall. There was a single figure curled up on the mattress.  _

_ Zakia laid on top of the covers, knees pulled into her chest and arms holding them tightly. She was ungodly still, and Mando approached slowly.  _

_ “Zak?” He murmured softly. Mando approached the bed, reaching one hand out to turn her onto her back.  _

_ She had been dressed in a light purple gown, loose-fitting and comfortable. Mando could feel the bandages hidden beneath the fabric, and a pang of guilt hit him in the guts. Bruises littered her arms, but Mando was more concerned about her face. Zakia was fairly tan aside from her scar and smattering of freckles, but the skin Din saw was nothing of the like.  _

_ Her face was pale and her skin was papery, lacking all of its normal flush. The icy blue of her eyes was dull, surrounded by red arteries and washed out by tears. One socket was bordered with the worst black eye he had ever seen. The straight line of her nose had been broken, reset by the healer who had bandaged it well but was unable to hide the yellowing of skin around it. _

_ “Din.” Zakia’s voice almost broke him.  _

_ Softer than when she had told him she was pregnant, and more damaged than when the Wookiee had scarred her.  _

_ “I’m here.” He said, though his voice was barely there. The Mandalorian wasn’t even sure his modulator had picked up on the sound, but Zakia’s slight head tilt indicated she had.  _

_ “Did you get him?” The question managed to catch him off guard. Mando’s heart skipped a beat, having expected to face the reality of their lost child as opposed to their intended bounty.  _

_ “He’s dead.” Din swallowed. “All of them.” _

_ Zakia dipped her head as best she could. “Good.” _

_ Working up the courage, the Mandalorian sat on the edge of her bed and reached a hand to hold hers. “Zakia… the healer told me- she explained to me-” _

_ “Don’t.” Zakia’s fingers tightened around hers, and water dripped from her eyes. “Please. I can’t- Din…”  _

_ Her voice cracked as she uttered his name. Din pushed himself onto the bed further, encircling her within his arms carefully. His armor was uncomfortable beneath his arm, and the helmet was plain inconvenient, but nothing phased him except the shaking woman in his arms. Din collected her so he was on his side and Zakia was facing him. She buried her face into his cowl and her hands wrapped around the edges of his chestplate, gripping tightly onto the only thing she had left.  _

“Everything okay?”

The Mandalorian jumped, whirling towards the refresher door. Zakia stood in the threshold, damp hair hanging about her shoulders and curling up at the ends. She had changed from her old clothes into a pair of sleeping shorts and one of his long sleeves made for the underside of his armor. 

“Yeah.” Din replied, “Just tired. Thinking.”

Zakia stepped from the doorway towards him, icy eyes drilling holes through his visor. “What about?” 

“What did you and the Ugnaught talk about?” Din asked. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been pondering, but he knew it was related. The Mandalorian began methodically removing his armor as he awaited an answer.

Zakia sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth despite it already being swollen from the repetitive motion. “He asked me why the child had such an effect on me. And I told him.”

A vambrace was set carefully on the shelves made for his armor, followed by a pauldron of the same side. “But that’s not all.”

Zakia sighed. “It wasn’t even that intimate of a conversation. I think he just made me realize the real reason I’ve been…” She trailed off, a nervous hand coming to tug at her hair, “...different.”

Mando slowed in his effort to remove his cuisses and looked up. “Which is?”

“I’m scared.” Zakia’s arms folded over her chest is an awkward sort of self-embrace. “Of being alone. Of losing something else important to me. I think I’ve known it the whole time, but wrote it off as impossible. Everything that’s happened, with the  _ Child  _ and the mudhorn, it just reminded me that losing something- losing  _ you _ \- isn’t impossible.”

Din set the last of his armor to the side and stepped towards Zakia. She was shorter than normal without her boots on. Hair wet and legs bared, she looked as vulnerable as he could remember. 

“You are not going to lose me.” Din’s hand clasped the juncture of her shoulder and neck, squeezing gently. “Never.”

Zakia sniffled, reaching one hand up to cover his. Her eyes leaked tears, and she gripped his fingers tightly. “I don’t think you understand how much I need you.”

Din was almost completely sure she underestimated his reliance on her at this point. “I think I do.” He lowered his voice. “I love you.” 

Now she was all-out crying, though her glacial orbs were filled with happiness.

“I love you too.” She smiled, a flash of white against her red face. “Now go take a shower so I can lay down with you.” Zakia managed through her sniffling. “You smell like shit.”

And everything was alright.

-

They slept for a long time. 

Three-quarters of the way to Nevarro, and all the way through Greef Karga’s transmission that instructed Mando to take the Child directly to the Client. A glance back at the bassinet confirmed said asset was still there. The waking of the Child was what ended Din and Zakia’s slumber, and it only relaxed when the bassinet was moved into the cockpit. Mando tethered it to the copilot seat, while Zakia watched from a reasonable distance. Though her hesitancy about coming in contact with the child had faded, she still avoided it as much as she could. 

The aforementioned blonde leaned against the dashboard, watching Din pilot the ship through space. “This is unfair.”

Din eyeballed the mercenary beside him. “It’s only until Nevarro.”

The stars rushed passed them outside, and Zakia watched the balls of gas streak by. “I’m gonna go down and find something to do.”

The Mandalorian was motionless up until the point where she started walking. His gloved hand snapped up to take ahold of her waist. Zakia startled and an undignified squawk escaped her. 

“Mando!” She chastised, though a giggle fought its way out. He tugged her down until she sat sideways on his lap. Zakia’s thighs were warm on his, and Din shifted to keep comfortable. 

“The kid is in your spot.” Din said. “I thought I’d share.”

“Well,” Zakia smirked and ran a hand down his chest, fingers finding their way between the waistband of his trousers and his tunic. She stopped there, turning back to his helmet. “I guess I can handle that.”

The Mandalorian lifted her easily, settling her so her thighs were on either side of his body. His hands ran up her legs and followed the curves of her body. The leather of his gloves was cool when it slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts and gripped the round flesh of her ass. Zakia grinned at the enthusiasm and let her hand travel further down. 

It wasn’t until her mouth was making contact with Din’s neck that he noticed the presence next to them. He jerked, and Zakia clambered off his lap out of pure instinct. They both watched the Child haul itself onto the dashboard, holding the ball from the top of the acceleration lever. It attempted to slip the item into its mouth, and Din finally regained his bearings enough to interfere. 

“It’s not a toy.” He took the ball away and set it near the lever. The Mandalorian lifted the child by the heavy robe to replace him in the bassinet and swivel back towards Zakia. The Child cooed at both of them and blinked with its big doe eyes. Zakia raised a single brow and exhaled heavily. 

“Mood killer.” 

The Mandalorian acknowledged her words with a nod, but there was no venom behind them. He didn’t miss the way her eyes softened whenever they landed on the green infant. 

“I’ll take him to the bazaar.” Mando tapped idly at the Navicomputer. “And we can leave right away.”

Zakia leaned against the dash and crossed her legs at the ankle. “Do you mind if we get another job right away?” 

Din was surprised to hear her ask, but shrugged. “Don’t see why not. You can talk to Karga while I visit the client.”

* * *

They stuck to their plan upon arriving on Nevarro, Mando departing just before Zakia to turn in the Child. He had given her several credit chips, telling her to have some fun while she was out. Zakia knew he could sense her emotions, and he tried in the only way he knew to make her feel better in his absence. She watched them leave from the cockpit, her stomach twisting itself into knots as she thought about the Imps and what their plans were for the baby. 

The  _ target.  _

She forced her brain to use the correct word. It was against Guild code to question their purpose anyway, and Zakia kept the rule trapped within the confines of her skull. It took her less time to dress than normal, and she descended the Crest’s hatch and headed into the bazaar. 

The difference in demeanor was apparent, and Zakia understood just how quickly word spread. Bounty hunters stared in her direction, the normal hatred multiplied by a hundred. Her hands dangled over her blasters, but Zakia managed to ignore most of the intimidation and continue walking. She stopped at a few booths to examine trinkets of all shapes and sizes until the tavern was no longer avoidable.

Zakia had thought the hunters in the bazaar would be the worst of it, but she was proven wrong as soon as she entered. The noise quieted, and the majority of people watched her enter. She scowled back, not at all hesitant to return the hostility. Fairly certain they were less inclined to approach her due to her relationship with the Mandalorian, she pressed on. Greef Karga was sipping spotchka at his normal table, and smiled when she approached. 

“Zakia! A sight for sore eyes, you are.” They shook hands briefly, and Zakia sat across from him. Karga motioned for the bar to bring another drink, and the alien behind the counter set about his request. 

“ Usually am.” Zakia snarked, accepting the glass of spotchka delivered by a strange reptilian creature she hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing before. 

Karga chuckled at her attitude. “I see the mission hasn’t changed you much. Where is Mando, anyway?”

Zakia shrugged. “He was delivering the asset to the Client. After that, my guess would be refueling and rationing. We had a run in with a clan of Jawas and I’m fairly certain they ate most of the food I’d just bought.” 

“Well I’m glad to hear it went well. But now’s your chance to celebrate!” Greef leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know they all hate you both because you got it?”

A snort came from the blonde, and she kneaded her scarred cheek. “They already did. This won’t change anything.”

“More than normal, I mean. All of that reward- the  _ beskar _ . They all wished for it. Hell, I got a commission for recommending Mando.” Karga showed her the ingot of beskar hidden beneath his outer robe.

“Speaking of,” Zakia started, leaning back in her booth and lifting her feet to rest on the table, “Why wasn’t I included in that deal? You know Mando and I are partners.”

“Oh, I know. And I know what he would do to me if some harm were to come upon you. And with your past, I didn’t think you’d want to be on their radar. I assume your partner told you the party which is funding the mission?” Karga kept his voice low, pausing anytime a patron drifted too close to their table. 

“He told me they were remnants of the Empire.” Zakia confirmed. “But my past-”

  
“You’ve accepted a lot of bounties from Republic sources, have you not? I hear you’re pretty good with a sniper rifle when it comes to emptying out old Imperial hideouts as well- even if you may not have known.” 

Zakia frowned. “Imperial hideouts? What are you talking about?”

Greef sighed. “I expect you to rein him in when your Mandalorian tries to kill me.”

“Consider him managed. What are you talking about, Greef?”

“Do you recall accepting a job from a young woman on Coruscant?” Karga questioned. 

Zakia blew a breath out, errant strands of hair swaying in front of her face. “I’ve accepted a lot of jobs from a lot of people, in a lot of places.”

“This was before Mando. When you used to come here and fight other hunters for pucks.” Greef supplied the extra information, and Zakia was thrown back to a time far before the present. 

“Okay. Coruscant… what was the job?”

“There was no bounty to be brought back. Everyone was to be killed. Reward was given in the form of Galactic Credits. A lot of them. Enough to buy a new space cruiser.” Karga raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and Zakia felt her stomach drop. 

“Wait, wait, wait. That was a hit? A political hit?” Zakia scratched her head, until freezing in her seat. Her icy eyes landed on Karga. “How do you know this?”

Of course she remembered the job, after he supplied the time frame and credits. She had been looking for work, letting the mechanics of Coruscant fix her beat-up cruiser. It was in a small Twi’lek brothel-turned-restaurant that the young woman had approached her. She seemed meek and scared, but that was normal when someone wanted to remain anonymous from their hired mercenary. They paid someone else to relay the message. 

“The Client who is searching for the child asked me if I knew of any mercenaries capable of the job. Mando was my first thought, but I checked the logs, and he was on assignment for me. As well as all other snipers who I knew could have made six headshots at almost eight-hundred meters without one miss.” Karga waved a hand in her direction. “And that left you.”

Zakia swallowed. Rifles had always been her strong suit. Sniping was an art that demanded focus and precision, and before her injury at the hands of the Wookiee, she had been very good. Her eyes weren’t as good as they had been, and she rarely had the chance to get her hands on a good rifle. Mando’s Amban disruptor was far from her weapon of choice. 

“So the Empire has a price on my head?” She managed around a mouthful of spotchka, secretly wishing the alcohol would take effect faster. 

“Not that I was told.” Karga tipped his head to the side. “Sounded much more like they were interested in your skill set.”

“You mentioned my name?” 

Karga snorted into his glass. “I’m not suicidal! They didn’t offer a reward, and the Mandalorian you keep company with scares me far more than I’d like to admit. It wouldn’t be worth it to put you in danger, or on the Empire’s radar.”

“So you’re just gonna....” Zakia waved her hand around in a vague gesture, “...keep it to yourself?”

“Unless it becomes necessary that I make it available, yes.”

Zakia’s feet swept from the table, and she stomped them back onto the tavern floor. The sound drew a few wandering eyes, but her snarl sent them packing. “Are you blackmailing me, Karga?”

“Of course not. Just keep it in mind that someone else may know.”

Zakia glared, but the words circling her brain faded when a short bounty hunter, colloquially known to Zakia and many more as ‘Saucer Head’, made his way to their table. He began speaking Huttese to Karga, of which Zakia only picked up a few words. It sounded like a bad attempt to justify a failed hunt. 

“You had your shot, dust breather, but you failed. No pucks for you. Now get outta here.” Karga barked at him. Zakia chuckled, watching the exchange with muted interest. It was always fun to watch the newbies. Saucer Head spoke back, to which the blonde leaned forward and prodded his arm. 

“Hi. Yeah, down here. Why don’t you leave the hunting to the professionals, huh?” Zakia poked fun at the man- as she did best- and smirked as he sulked away. Saucer Head grumbled as he stomped towards the far door. 

“We’re not going to get any new Guild members if you chase them away, Zakia.” Karga scolded, though the humor in his tone said otherwise. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Zakia was faintly aware of the front door opening, but didn’t turn right away. “How are they supposed to be bounty hunters without a thick skin?”

Greef didn’t answer her, too busy looking over her shoulder. She took that moment to realize the tavern had in fact gone quiet, and turned. An unfamiliar flash of silver caught her eyes, and she turned back to Karga with eyebrows furrowed. The Guild agent only chuckled as she did a double take, arctic eyes lighting up as she recognized the helmet and confident swagger. 

A Mandalorian- though vastly more fresh-looking than hers had been that morning- approached the table. 

Zakia pointed up at him, eyes still on Karga. “Is this my Mandalorian? He looks a lot… shinier than he did earlier.”

The beskar gleamed in the tavern’s dim lights, and Zakia bit her lip, winking up at Mando. Karga frowned at the exchange, but quickly changed his expression. 

“Mando!” He motioned at the patrons surrounding them, who were all still quiet. “They all hate you, Mando. Because you’re a legend!”

Din was motionless, standing like a statue above their table. “How many of them had tracking fobs?” 

The extra fobs had slipped Zakia’s mind. So much had happened since they were ambushed in the canyon on Arvala-7 that the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Greef looked around, and his shoulders rose in a shrug. 

“All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you two! And with it,” Karga smiled, “The richest reward this parsec has ever seen.”

Zakia finished her glass, doing her best to remove the thought of what exactly their bounty had been.  _ A child. _ Her mind screamed, but her face betrayed nothing. 

“Please, sit, my friend.” Greef nodded to the spot beside Zakia, and she slid over in the booth to allow Mando room to sit. Her eyes lingered on the new armor covering his chest and arms, tongue tracing her teeth as she took in his figure. The cuirass was perfectly fit for him, and both pauldrons matched. His helmet appeared freshly cleaned, and Zakia took it as a sign he had visited the covert. 

With his rifle resting beside him, Din sidled into the booth beside Zakia. His hand found her thigh beneath the table, and she took it he had noticed the expression on her face while admiring the beskar. She quirked a corner of her mouth, expecting him to remove the hand shortly thereafter. They settled at the table, and Din surprised Zakia by leaving his hand on her leg. Out of Karga’s sight, but still more affectionate than he had ever been in public. 

“They’re all weighing the beskar in their minds.” Greef chuckled at the patrons. “But not me. No. I, for one, celebrate your success. As I told your lovely partner, it is my success as well.”

“Oh, I’ve been promoted to lovely. Normally I’m annoying.” Zakia remarked, using a single finger to trace the rim of her empty glass.

“Far from it.” Karga’s change in attitude at Mando’s appearance was tangible, and the blonde narrowed her eyes. “Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable pair of hunters?”

  
  
  
  



	7. Part VII: Raid

“Why’d you ask about the kid?” 

Zakia waited until they were outside of the bazaar and almost to the Crest before she asked. They both carried supplies back towards the ship, large boxes crammed beneath their arms.

“Curious as to why there’s so much fuss, that’s all.” He answered. Zakia watched him tap on his new vambrace, releasing the hydraulics for the hatch. 

“I see.” She hummed, tottering up the ramp behind him. She waited for it to close before taking a step towards him. “And you’ve had an eventful day.”

Mando glanced down at his body, still not used to the reflective surface now coating each piece of armor. “I visited the covert. My armor was compromised.”

Zakia tapped on red nail against the metal, the sound echoing in the Crest’s quiet cargo hold. “It looks good.”

“How good?” His words were suggestive, but the voice which uttered them was exhausted. DIn tipped his helmet down to have a better view of Zakia as she neared him, but his mind was subdued. It was somewhere far away from the present, lingering on his actions that seemed more and more like mistakes as the minutes passed.

“You cut quite the figure.” Zakia stood on her toes to press a kiss just underneath the fabric of his cowl. “And our  _ target _ -” DIn pretended not to notice her hesitance to use the word “-is almost four days away.”

He hummed in agreement, one hand resting gently on her hipbone.

Expecting a different reaction from Din, Zakia stepped back. She looked him up and down before pulling her lip in between her teeth. “Sorry. Are you alright?”

Din nodded. “Just ready to get out of here. I’m gonna get us into hyperspace. Why don’t you unpack and I’ll be down soon?”

He didn’t mean to push her away, but turning in the Child and and visiting the covert- more Paz’s actions than anything else there- had drained him. Din heard Zakia click their bounty puck open once, observing the target before setting it aside. She was just beginning to move boxes towards the galley when he ascended to the cockpit. 

The pilot’s chair was warmed from the faint sun and welcoming to his body. Din settled comfortably into the familiar spot and began booting the engines and computer systems. Practiced movements had the sequences completed in less than a minute, and he reached to accelerate. But his gloved fingers failed to pull the lever, and Din glanced towards the stick which protruded from the dash in its place. The sphere that was used as a finger hold was set aside, and Din’s hand could only hover. The thought of their infant bounty removing it surfaced violently, and Din was thrown into his own subconscious thoughts. 

_ Foundlings are the Future.  _

He could hear the two Mandalorians who had taken him in uttering those words. But the Child he found was an enemy. He was a job. 

But was he an enemy of theirs?

His boots were already on the ground when his mind caught up. Using one hand to switch off what he’d started, Mando began to make sure his weaponry was fully loaded. He clambered down the ladder and replaced his rifle back onto his shoulders. 

“What’s going on?” Zakia asked, coming around the corner from the galley with a rag in her hands. She wiped at her fingers, glancing between Din and his rifle. 

The truth was always the best option in these situations, Din had learned. He paused near the hatch controls, exhaling softly. He turned to Zakia, who looked more concerned at his hesitation. 

“I’m going to get him.” 

Zakia tilted her head, and Mando knew she didn’t understand. He had kept his own personal conflicts to himself due to her own turmoil. And it was still evident she hadn’t felt right about turning the Child into the Empire, but she was unable to vocalize it. Hell, Din couldn’t put it into words either. 

Though he sure as hell could show how he felt. 

“Get who?” Zakia watched him carefully, and even though his face was hidden, she seemed to read him like a book. “The Child. You’re going to get the Child?

”Zak, I know you didn’t want to-”

“I’m coming.” Her blasters were already being secured back into their holsters. 

“You’re… Are you okay?” Was all Mando could manage. He stared at the blonde. 

Who, he reminded himself, carried his own child. The same woman who had his back, who healed him, and stayed with him over every hill and trudged through every valley. Who was  _ destroyed  _ when their Child was lost. And now, another Child was on the line. Too soon after their own had been lost, this one was thrown into their arms and then torn away before they realized the consequences. 

“No.” Zakia pulled her jacket on and reached for the headwrap she used to conceal her face. “But I know how to make it right.” 

The Mandalorian didn’t know what else to do but reach out to her. He grasped onto her shoulder and pulled her to stand directly in front of him. Zakia lifted a han and braced it against his helmet, wiping a speck of dust from the black ‘T’ of his visor.

Not able to withstand the urge, Din stepped to her and gently slid his hand over her eyes. “Close.” He murmured. 

Zakia did so without question, leaving Din with two freed hands to remove his helmet. He tucked the beskar beneath his arm and stepped forwards, hands brushing away Zakia’s hair. Din crushed his lips to hers, all too aware of the vulnerability he was showing. He trusted Zakia to keep her eyes closed, and sighed against her mouth when her fingers ran through his hair. 

It was a brief kiss, though only a fool could mistake the emotion behind it. Mando replaced his helmet after smoothing his hair down best he could, and watched Zakia blink her eyes open. Din’s hand remained on her cheek, and he bumped his helmet against her temple. 

“This is the Way.”

Zakia did a fairly good job of finding his eyes through the visor. “Then let’s go.”

* * *

In a dumpster, they found the Child’s bassinet. 

Zakia and Mando exchanged a glance, but it was clear nothing sinister had happened within it. There was no blood, and no sign of a struggle. They kept moving until Mando found a rooftop he deemed suitable, explaining to her that it was near the Imperial’s hiding place. They both slunk onto their bellies, crawling to the edge of the roof. Mando pulled the Amban rifle from his shoulder and turned on the noise detection, pointing the duel-ended weapon towards the designated building. 

“What are they saying?” Zakia whispered. She turned her head only slightly, as they already rested shoulder to shoulder. 

“They’re talking about working quickly. They can’t guarantee their people’s safety.” Mando answered. 

The pair slunk from the rooftop, and Mando stopped a block from the door, leaning against the concrete wall behind them. He pulled his rifle strap until it freed from his armor and held the weapon out to her.

“I’m going in. There are Stormtroopers who have blasters, and you don’t have armor.” Din nodded toward the building. “You keep watch outside. If someone that’s not me comes out, kill them. Just make sure no one is around to see.”

Zakia agreed to his plan and motioned for him to lead. He showed her to a dark steel door, a tiny porthole made for a droid to look out on the right of it. Din knocked on the door with a closed fist, and both hunters remained tucked in the alcove of the door to avoid being seen. The orbital unit for the droid appeared shortly after Din knocked, and Zakia sliced it off with Mando’s vibroknife. 

“Once I’m out, there will be Stormtroopers everywhere.” Din said quickly, and Zakia nodded. 

“The com unit is still synced to your helmet. Call me if there’s a problem.” 

They parted ways, one taking off in either direction away from the door. Zakia crammed herself into a small space around the building’s corner, vibroknife waiting in her right hand and Amban rifle a comforting presence on her back. She heard footsteps moving in her direction, and flattened herself against the wall. 

“Clear by the entrance. Taking the corner now.”

The crackly modulators used by the Stormtroopers were a blatant giveaway, and Zakia breathed in deeply. She saw the white armor round the corner, and stayed in the shadows until he was far from the street. 

Zakia surveyed the armor briefly, deciding there was more vulnerability in the front than on their backs. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, and the trooper spun around into her waiting hands. The blonde was quick to slide the knife between the armor on his neck, effectively silencing him as he dropped dead. She withdrew the weapon just as precisely, wiping the blade clean on the trooper’s undershirt. 

After she located and terminated the second trooper, Zakia continued her track around the corner. She found a hole blown into the wall- she presumed one of Mando’s charges had been responsible for that. There was the faint echo of blaster fire from inside, and Zakia looked around. There was too much plaster dust to make anything out clearly, but she could see two troopers lying on the ground inside. She found a crevice in the wall to tuck herself into, and watched the opening. 

“Here’s the entrypoint.” 

Zakia watched a trio of the white-clad soldiers survey the hole from her position in the shadows. 

“Thermal indicated two invaders.”

She tensed. Since when did run of the mill stormtroopers have thermal detection in their helmets? Zakia briefly entertained the thought that they might share a pair of binocs, but after the reward they had issued Mando for the Child it was clear they weren’t ordinary guards. 

“It did. Let me switch over.”

Cutting her losses, Zakia stepped from her nook and fired three shots. Two landed on their mark, but the third ricocheted off the wall somewhere. She ducked behind a dumpster as the remaining trooper opened fire, swearing at the location. There was no kill shot to be had from her vantage point. 

As the trooper approached, Zakia scrambled onto her stomach and extended a hand beneath the corner of the trash receptacle. She was able to fire and knock the blaster away, to which the lackey rushed forward. She was trained well in hand-to-hand combat, but the petite size of her body never failed to betray her when the enemy was of the opposite sex. Men were larger, built for muscle. Women were not. 

Zakia managed to get her arms around her assailant’s neck as he tackled her at the waist. Her only weapon aside from the blasters and knife- Din’s rifle- was too far from her reach. The trooper had withdrawn cuffs, locking one around her wrist tightly and reaching for her other. Zakia was pinned to the ground, but not without determination. She used her arms as leverage, swinging a knee into the trooper’s groin. Despite the fact they wore armor, it wasn’t always effective. Normally the sensation of getting kicked in the manhood had most flinching out of pure instinct. 

“Ha. Gotcha.” Zakia mocked as she swung herself around the cringing man’s body to climb on his back. She looped her free hand through the unoccupied loop of the cuffs, bringing the middle around his neck. Zakia held it there until he stopped moving. She shook out her cuffed wrist and tugged at the metal, but it was no use. It was a problem for another time. 

The com unit attached to her headwrap chimed obnoxiously in her ear, and Mando’s voice drifted to her as she climbed back to her feet. 

_ “How do I know I can trust you?” _

“Din?” She asked, hand pressing against her headwrap to muffle outside sound. “Where are you?” 

His next words were quiet, soft enough to avoid his modulator’s reach. “ _ Just inside town. They have me surrounded.” _

_ “ _ Who?” Zakia demanded, spinning on her heel and snatching the rifle from the ground. 

“ _ The Guild. I’m gonna talk quick, pay attention.”  _ Din said, “ _ Get the high ground and pick as many of them off as you can. I’ll give you a go signal when it’s time.” _

She brushed her fingers along the gun stock. “I’m going up.”

Zakia hoisted herself onto the rim of the dumpster and hauled her body to the rooftop above it. Orienting herself in the proper direction, she crossed from building to building until the arch above the bazaar’s entrance was within view. She spotted Mando’s gleaming armor near an idle speeder, the Child swaddled in blankets and resting in the crook of his arm. He was surrounded by Guild hunters, led at the front by Greef Karga. A pang of anger hit Zakia at the man’s actions, but there was nothing she could do to alter it. Bounty hunters weren’t loyal. They went for the highest bid and didn't relent until it was theirs. 

Zakia crawled on knees and elbows to edge of the building, about a block away from the standoff. She took in her surroundings, and noted an old chimney- now used as the support for a water tankard- standing above her. The blonde scaled it quickly and camouflaged herself between the bars. She pulled the Amban rifle from her back and tucked it into the crook of her shoulder, eyes naturally ducking into the scope. 

“I’m in place, Din. Under the water tank, directly behind you.”

A click of static answered her, indicating he had heard. Zakia could faintly make out Karga’s voice in the distance, and synced the rifle to her com. She turned on the noise detection, but the conversation had faded. Mando’s body slowly turned to face the speeder, and his whispered voice rang into ears. 

“ _ When I move.” _

Zakia placed her crosshairs on the bounty hunter nearest Mando. “I’ve got you.”

The firefight had started before any more negotiations could be made. Din dropped the Child as gently as possible into the speeder and swiveled to shoot a nearby hunter. Zakia squeezed the trigger on her target, a satisfied smirk crossing her face as the man disintegrated. The Mandalorian had pulled himself into the speeder, lying on his back so the beskar was face up. Zakia quickly readjusted her aim and moved to the next open target. She watched Mando ‘gently’ coax the speeder’s droid pilot into moving, and the vehicle took off. 

Din had shot enemies along his path as well, leaving a trail of bodies behind. Luckily, there was enough chaos that Zakia’s shots blended into all the others and they took little notice of the disruptor’s power. The blonde turned the rifle sharply to the left, searching for any imminent threats. She took notice of a few reloading, gave them the benefit of the doubt, and continued. It wasn’t until she spotted a familiar form between two buildings that she stopped. 

Greef Karga. 

He had his blaster aimed at the droid on the speeder which Mando had commandeered. Zakia growled as he slid into the alley a few inches further, preventing her from getting a proper shot. Sliding her tongue over her teeth, she switched the cartridge from a disruptor to a regular slug. Zakia lined up her shot, and pulled the trigger. 

She saw Karga’s blaster fire just as she did, and she watched the weapon fly from his hand. The droid on Mando’s speeder had been destroyed and the whole vehicle stopped, but Karga was hit. He yanked his arm back, doubling over to grasp at the extremity. Zakia huffed a laugh, being sure to keep the rifle still. 

“Gotchya, bastard.” 

Karga looked around desperately, but she was too far for detection. Her mind briefly considered the fact that he would most likely turn her name into the Imperials for consideration after their last conversation, but it would matter not. Mando and her would be wanted for having the Child, and she was fairly sure its value far outweighed hers. 

She breathed in and out slowly, searching for another target. Mando was pinned, but Zakia knew she could cause a distraction since the cacophony of blaster fire had ceased. She pointed in the direction of a Kubaz hunter, and exhaled as her finger drew the trigger back. His body burst into ash, and Zakia quickly reloaded and fired two more shots. They had at least figured out the direction she was in, and all took caution to hide themselves 

“Shit.” They were all behind cover. She turned the noise detection back on to listen for any movement. 

“ _ That’s one impressive weapon!’ _ ” Karga called out. It was tinny and muted through her com, but the words still reached her. “ _ I wonder who’s firing?”  _

Zakia tensed, keeping an eye out to make sure no hunters were coming her way. Karga had concealed himself from view, and she presumed he was scared of her. 

“ _ Here’s what I’ll do.”  _ Din’s voice was hard, leaving no room for argument. “ _ I’m gonna walk to my ship with the kid and you’re gonna let it happen.” _

“ _ No. How about this?  _ We  _ take the kid and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.”  _

Zakia realized as it was happening, that a hunter was sneaking towards Mando from behind the speeder. Just as the figure moved to shoot the Mandalorian, Zakia pulled the trigger and he was ash. Mando reacted to her shot instantaneously, lunging forward to fire at the growing group near his feet. Din eventually resulted to using the flamethrower in his gauntlet, but it was of little good. It was too easy for the lakeys surrounding him to duck out of the way. After he was out of options, Mando flattened himself back down into the speeder. 

“ _ Zak, I don’t have a way out, “  _ a soft coo from the child followed his words, and Zakia froze with her finger hovering over the trigger. “ _ You’re going to run out soon.”  _

_ “ _ No! Din, you’re not allowed to give up now!” Zakia aimed and disintegrated another one of his assailants, voice beginning to shake. Her throat grew thick, and tears bit at her already burning eyes. Aim, shoot, reload, aim. 

_ Click _ . 

As Din had said, she was out of cartridges. 

_ “Zak, get out of here. Take the ship and go.”  _ Din’s voice was oddly even, and Zakia shook her head. 

“Shut up, you moron. We just-” Zakia swallowed, choking on her words. “We _ just  _ figured us out. I can’t leave you here.”

His next words broke her heart. “ _ And I can’t leave another kid.” _

Zakia’s hand ran down her face, wiping viciously at her tears. “I love you, Djarin.”

“ _ And I-” _

The whistle of a flying projectile shot over their heads, effectively cutting off the conversation. Zakia scrambled from her post, watching more and more figures streak across the sky. They fired down upon the hunters, and it took more than a few seconds for Zakia to see them clearly. 

“The covert.” She breathed. 

Mandalorians surrounded the bazaar. Some with jetpacks, and others with heavy repeating blasters, but  _ all  _ fighting for Din. The sight of so many sent the hunters screaming, though several remained in a foolish attempt to stand their ground. 

_ “Zak, stay there. Someone is coming for you.”  _ Din’s voice was incredulous, like he didn’t believe what was going on around him. 

“I will, just get out of here.” Zakia told him, switching off her com and swinging the gun onto her shoulder. She observed the Mandalorians and their incredible power from her position, chest heaving. 

A bright streak of light came towards her, and Zakia took a step back as the hulking figure it was attached to landed on her rooftop. The Mandalorian was broad and tall, with heavy artillery guns melded into his armor. He surveyed Zakia for a brief moment before tipping his head. 

“So you’re the one who’s stuck with Djarin.” 

His voice was deep and intimidating, though Zakia sensed humor beneath the mask. 

“He’s more stuck with me, I think.” She said, tilting her head to observe the battle. “But nonetheless, I can’t express my gratitude. Your covert has saved us.”

The Mandalorian only dipped his head. “This is the Way.”

Zakia gripped the rifle strap as it laid over her chest. “You’re here to save the damsel in distress, yeah?” 

“Djarin asked me to bring you to safety. He is getting the Razor Crest off the ground, and We’ll meet him in the air.” The Mandalorian tipped his head in her direction, motioning up and down. “You don’t look much like a damsel, though.”

“Thanks. Do I at least get a name?” Zakia chewed on her lip, stepping towards the hulking figure. “If not, I get it.”

“Vizsla. Paz Vizsla. I ran with Djarin in the Fighting Corps.” An explosion rang out behind them, and they watched the hunters get pushed back in their direction. “But I must insist we get moving. I fear I will be stuck with Djarin the rest of my life if you are damaged.”

The sound of the Crest’s engines powering up was audible above all of the shooting. 

“I’d have to agree. Thank you.”

Paz only nodded. “Keep your head down.”

Zakia braced herself as Paz pulled her into his massive chest, wrapping one heavily-armored arm around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, fingers twisting into his cloak and gripping onto his cuirass. 

“Is there a countdown, or-” Zakia’s own screech interrupted the sentence as Paz pushed off the ground. The jetpack’s heat radiated down her legs, and Zakia instinctively squirmed in the Mandalorian’s hold until her legs were wrapped around his. It was a rather intimate position for someone she had only just met, but the fighting of gravity and fear of falling kept her latched on. 

“First time?” Paz called over the roar. 

Zakia lifted her head just enough to glare at him through the visor and elicit a chuckle from the man. They flew for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes until they caught up with the Razor Crest where it was speeding through the atmosphere. The hatch slid open, forgoing the normal ramp and Paz shot forward, propelling them into the ship. He landed rather gracefully, and Zakia lifted her head from his shoulder. 

“That was terrifying.” She managed. 

The Mandalorian-  _ her  _ Mandalorian- took that moment to clamber down the ladder. Paz locked visors with Din, and the larger stepped back towards the door. 

“Ret'urcye mhi, vod.”

Din returned the sentiment, and the door slid shut behind Paz as he rocketed out of the ship. Zakia moved to turn back towards Din, but his arms were pulling her to him before she could make the choice. She went willingly, tears burning her eyes.

“I didn’t think I was getting out.” Din said in her ear. 

“Don’t ever tell me to leave again, you hear me?” Zakia shook him, and Mando only chuckled. They broke apart, and she set her hands on his shoulders. 

“Do you want to see it now?” Mando asked. 

The Child. In all the commotion, Zakia didn’t realize the green being was still aboard. 

“Yeah. “ Zakia’s heart thumped against her ribs, but a warm feeling curled itself into her stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

They both climbed into the cabin above, Din switching the ship off auto-pilot and taking a seat in the pilot’s chair. Zakia looked around, and spotted the Child on the floor near the chair. He was straining towards the dash, and both adults looked down. Zakia remembered the beast reaching for the knob on the acceleration level before, and it was evident he remembered it. 

Unbeknownst to Din, tears leaked from Zakia’s eyes as she watched him free the silver ball and drop it into the Child’s waiting had. The gesture was simple, but it switched something on inside her that had been long dormant. She took a small step forward, one hand coming to rest on Mando’s knee as she bent near the baby. It looked at her and tilted its head. 

“You’re sweet, but you caused a lot of trouble.”

Big brown eyes blinked at her. The Child looked from the Mandalorian to her before offering up the toy he had just received. A small smile spread across his tiny face, and Zakia’s heart fluttered. She reached out her hand, lightly stroking a finger across its forehead. 

“I think we’re gonna get along real well.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ret'urcye mhi, vod - Goodbye, brother.


	8. Part VIII: Illusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note for you guys :)  
> Quite a few of you have commented and messaged me asking if I had a face in mind for Zakia. Honestly, I’ve always seen her in my head looking something like Julianne Hough if she had really curly hair. That’s my take, so do with that what you wish. 
> 
> Anyhow, this chapter is kind of a filler and shorter than I’d like. This episode is giving me more of a hard time than the others to get started, and school is crazy! I’m doing my best but want to thank you all, especially my repeat reviewers, for the kind words and encouragement. I’m glad you all enjoy the characters and their interactions. 

Sorgan was a quiet place. 

They had decided to lay low and let the heat from their shootout on Nevarro blow over, and it seemed this planet was an ideal place to do it. Din was searching the navicomputer when they approached Sorgan, designating it as a place of interest due to its low population density and lack of general hub. Zakia was not acclimated to such silence, and it made her ears ring as they strode out of the Razor Crest and into the woods. 

The blonde carried their newest addition close to her chest, while Mando led their strange group through the woods. He switched between tracking with his HUD and keeping an eye on Zakia and the Child, who both seemed to be in love with the lush surroundings.

“It’s quiet here.” She murmured aloud. Just her soft voice cause birds to lift from trees and animals to scamper about on the forest floor. 

“Perfect for us.” Mando agreed, slowing in his walk to match hers. “We could stay here for a while.”

A smile tugged at Zakia’s lips. “Getting old, Din? Didn’t know you wanted to retire so soon.” 

He snorted, the sound electronic and less amused than she. “Shut it.”

“Whatever you say, old man.” Zakia skipped alongside him, pausing as the baby reached out towards the Mandalorian. “Or should I call you Daddy now?” 

Din didn’t miss the suggestiveness in her tone, or the gleam in her eyes when she teased him. The scar on her face crinkled as she laughed aloud. Zakia had clearly seen him falter in his step when she spoke. The Mandalorian refused to satisfy her with an answer, and continued forward on his trek for civilization. 

They had begun to heal the holes in their hearts after saving the Child, and the teasing was just the start of the process. Zakia had noticed a more relaxed demeanor about her Mandalorian, though he radiated protectiveness when both her and the kid were in his vicinity. Whenever something remotely threatening approached, he was quick to sidle in front of her or the Child and keep them out of sight.

As the small village, if it could be called that, came into view Zakia felt her shoulders droop. It was a collection of small huts with clotheslines hanging in between, all surrounding one large cantina in the middle. It was quiet, and Zakia could easily discern there were no hostiles in the area. The Child squirmed in her hold as it watched others bustle about, and she bent down to place him on the ground. Zakia was aware he didn’t understand their words, but pointed regardless. 

“You stay by Mando and I, yeah?” Zakia waved her finger in between the Mandalorian and herself. 

The Child squeaked happily and wandered about, but always wound up back near his protectors. His little hands gripped Mando’s bootstraps, peeking out playfully on either side as if he was playing hide and seek.

“See? Daddy Mando.” Zakia teased, pointedly looking down at the Child. 

After a brief glance to ensure no one was in their direct vicinity, Din slipped a hand under her cloak. Zakia furrowed her brow, but yelped as he took his revenge for her snark. 

“You pinched me!” She squealed, hand coming to rub her ass where he had taken his assault. There was no need to see his face- she could feel the smugness. 

“Mmhmm. Now come on.” 

The cantina was full of people, the proprietors serving noodles and talking happily. It wasn’t like the Guild tavern on Nevarro where everyone stopped to glare. No one paid the Mandalorian and his admittedly odd companion any mind as they entered. Zakia kept her eyes on all the patrons out of pure habit, and the hairs on her neck shot up as she turned to her left. There was a broad, dark haired woman sitting at a table in the corner. A glass of water rested in her hand, and her face was angled down with brows drawn. They didn’t have to be experienced mercenaries to know she had an eye on them.

Knowing the woman was watching them closely, Zakia pretended to cuddle into Mando’s side. She slipped her arm around his waist and set her head on his shoulder once the woman was behind them to speak without being seen. 

“You saw?”

“Yes.” Mando confirmed. The leather of his gloves gripped her hip. “Keep an eye out.”

Zakia pushed closer to finish the act, kissing the rim of his helmet before breaking away at an empty table. Mando lifted the Child onto one stool and Zakia sat in the middle so they could both have an unobstructed view of the woman.

The Child slapped his hands on the table, and Zakia put her hand on top to muffle the sound. “Are you hungry?” 

Only chirps answered her as another woman approached their table, this one much friendlier and open than the other. “Welcome travelers. Can I interest you in anything?” 

“Whatever the lady wants.” Din said, indicating the blonde across from him.

“Bone broth for the baby, please. And Phattro for me.” She smiled. 

The woman gave a fond smile in return. “You’re in luck. I just took down a Grinjer, so there’s plenty of broth.” A glance in Mando’s direction, “can I interest you in anything?”

The helmet shook minutely. “Just for them” 

“Very well.” The kind woman turned to retrieve the order, but Din spoke up before she could move 

“That one over there. When did she arrive?” The Mandalorian sat with one elbow propped on the table, and their server looked plain confused. She twisted to see who he was speaking of, and it was evident their unwelcome friend had noticed. 

“I don’t know, I’ve seen her around here the past week or so.” 

“What’s her business here?” Din continued his impromptu questioning, and Zakia watched the exchange with a raised brow.

“Business? Oh, well, there’s not much business in Sorgan, so I can’t say. She-” Their informant laughed nervously, and Din reached into his belt before tossing a few credit chips onto the table. “-doesn’t strike me as a log runner. Well,  _ thank you _ , sir.”

Zakia rolled her eyes at Din. The people of this planet were so innocent, it didn’t seem that the bribe had phased the woman. It was more as if she hadn’t seen that type of money thrown about in a long time. 

The woman turned to Zakia. “I’ll get that Phattro and broth to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka, just for good measure.”

She bustled away, and Zakia looked at Din. The Mandalorian was standing from his seat, armor clanking away.

“Wha- oh.”

The woman was gone. 

Din turned his helmet towards the kid, and Zakia nodded. “I’ve got him”

Mando rushed out the door, and the blonde sighed. “Guess it’s just you and me, sweetheart.” 

The baby chittered back at her, and a smile pulled at Zakia’s lips. While there was a corner of her mind concerned about Mando’s activity, Zakia tried to seal it away. They had become so dependent on the others' presence, it was important to be able to function alone. Not to be alone, but to fight solo. A surprise attack in a bazaar or on any planet could catch one of them off-guard and alone. 

“How sweet he is.” The woman who took their order returned with a small bowl of broth, and a bottle of Phattro for Zakia. “You seem like a nice group.”

Zakia nudged the bowl in front of her little green charge. He sniffed suspiciously at the small bowl before picking it up and taking a sip. The blonde took a swig of her drink as well.

“Thanks. Sorry about Mando, he can be a bit overprotective.” Zakia looked to the empty seat. If she were that woman, the unexpected interrogation would be a serious sign to stay away from someone.

“No problem at all. If you need anything, just call for me.” She told Zakia, moving back to her position behind the circular counter. 

“Well, what do you think?” Zakia looked at the baby, hand lifting to push the broth away. “Slow down, you’re gonna be sick.”

The motherly gesture fought its way out from the lockbox that was her heart, and Zakia stared at her hand for a minute. Her contemplation ended when the Child climbed from its chair. 

“Where are you going?” Zakia wondered. She wondered if he could hear something she couldn’t, and trailed behind the Child to the cantina’s exterior. It toddled out into the glass, stopping to drink out of the cup she didn’t realize he still had. 

The sound of a scuffle coaxed Zakia further out of the bar. She looked to her left and found two individuals locked in a struggle; Mando was on his back, and the woman on her stomach. They had each other’s bracers gripped tightly, their free hands both pointing blasters. Zakia pulled her own and aimed at the woman’s head. Her grip on the weapon was unwavering and the unknown foe at least managed to look impressed.

“Move and you’re dead.” The blonde grit through her teeth. 

The woman took in Zakia for a long moment before dropping her head to the ground. Mando’s visor reflected her face. “Do you want some soup?” 

Zakia furrowed her brows, but followed suit as both parties lowered their blasters. She picked up the Child and his empty bowl of broth, watching the woman warily. 

“I don’t mean you any harm.” 

Mando gave Zakia a reassuring nod, and gestured for all of them to return to the table. The woman, who introduced herself as Cara Dune, was a fairly hospitable woman whom Zakia found herself enjoying the presence of. She was a former shock-trooper who had helped clean up after the war. She told Mando and Zakia stories of dropping onto Endor to take care of Imperial warlords, and then her breaking away after politics took over her job. 

Zakia listened with interest, the Child propped on her lap. 

“How’d you end up here?” She asked Cara, icy eyes flicking from the shock-trooper to Din.

“Let’s just call it an early retirement.” Cara answered, sipping from her bowl of broth. “Look, I knew you were Guild. I figured you had a fob on me. That’s why I came at you so hard.” 

“Yeah, that’s what we figured.” Mando told her, arm propped on the tabletop. 

“Not as helpless as you looked when you came in.” Cara said to Zakia. So her act of clinging to Mando had worked. 

“I get that a lot. It’s helped more times than I’d care to admit.”

Cara chuckled and turned her dark eyes back to Mando. “Well. This has been a real treat, but unless you wanna go another round, one of us has to go and I was here first.” 

She sauntered out of the building, and Zakia rotated to face her Mandalorian. “Get your workout in today?” 

“Hush.” Mando snapped playfully. He looked between her and the Child. “Though, It does look like this planet’s taken.”

* * *

When dusk was upon them, the trio settled into the ship for the night with intent to leave in the morning. Mando was cleaning up beneath his armor, and Zakia strolled around outside the Crest. The Child was tucked in her arm and fighting sleep. Zakia, however, was fighting the urge to place a hand over its mouth to muffle the noise. The sound of the sonic shower disturbed the Child, who obviously could hear things that his human caretaker couldn’t. 

“Come on, sleep. It’s alright.” Zakia paced down the ramp until her feet touched grass. She propper her back end against the bottom of the ramp and placed her feet on the soft vegetation. The Child sniffled, unhappy with her lack of movement. She placed him down on the grass beside her feet, and his attitude changed immediately. The baby giggled happily, pulling strands from the dirt and tossing them in the air. 

“Yeah, tire yourself out. Please.” Zakia’s head dropped to her knees, and she rubbed at her eyes. 

_ POP. _

Zakia jerked to her feet, and the Child gasped at her sudden movement. There was an old-fashioned speeder entering the clearing, with one light dangling above the two occupants. The engine sputtered again, and the Child squealed unhappily. Zakia dangled one hand over her blaster, watching the men approach. She stood in front of the kid, who grabbed tightly onto her boots. It must have sensed her change in mood, and a soft cry escaped its mouth. Though they were intruding upon the trio’s makeshift space for the night, the two men looked harmless enough. They were both dressed in torn blue-tinted robes, and were searching the clearing for any other sign of danger.

“Excuse the intrusion, ma’am.” One started. 

The sound of steel clinking and heavy boots indicated the Mandalorian had heard them. The men grew more nervous as Din strolled down the ramp behind Zakia. 

“There something I can help you with?” The Mandalorian nudged his way past Zakia, one hand lingering for a brief moment on the small of her back. 

“Uh, yeah.” The lead man started, “Raiders.”

“We have money!” The second chimed in. 

Zakia raised an eyebrow, kneeling to lift the child. It watched the Mandalorian with its dark eyes as if it were analyzing everything he did. 

“So you think we’re mercenaries of some sort?” Din pressed, making his way to the landing gear and picking at a few loose wires. 

“You are a Mandalorian, right?” That was the leader speaking again. 

“Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That is Mandalorian armor, right?” The second. 

Zakia rocked the Child softly, silently cheering as its eyelids drifted together. 

“It is.” 

In all her honesty, Zakia was shocked that Mando even answered their question. She forced down a giggle as the two men followed Din closely. The Mandalorian was finding every excuse to remain outside the ship until the strangers left. His paranoia exceeded even Zakia’s lately, and she didn’t mind the security.

“See?” The smaller man looked to his friend, exasperated, “I told him. Sir, I’ve read a lot about your people..ahm.. Tribe. If half of what I read is true-”

“We have money!” The offer was thrown out again, and Zaki made sure the baby was dozing comfortably before she spoke. 

“Yeah? How much?” 

Both men turned to her, cheeks flushed red in the dim lantern light. “Everything we have, ma’am.”

According to them, they farmed krill in a small village a night’s worth of speeder travel away. Zakia’s interest piqued when they mentioned the spotchka they brewed, but she kept quiet as possible for the Child’s sake. The village they hailed from was struggling with Klatoonian raiders, and needed something to act as a deterrent. 

“You don’t even know what the job is!” 

After placing the Child in his pram, Zakia navigated to the open door near the hatch and watched Mando converse with the two village people. 

“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.” Mando paused at the ramp, gazing between Zakia and the tribesmen. 

“It’s everything we have! We-We’ll give you more after the next harvest.” 

Din elected not to answer, and Zakia’s lips turned into a thin line from where she stood leaning against the doorframe. He approached her, cloak thrown all the way over one shoulder from the wind. The men began to succeed, grumbling about their speeder ride back to the village. 

“Have to ride back… middle of nowhere with no protection.” 

Din paused in his motion to shut the ramp. Zakia looked into his visor, eyes confused. 

“Where do you live?” Mando demanded of the men. 

“On a farm.” The leader answered, turning back towards the Crest. “Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.”

Zakia stepped forward, looping her arm around Din’s where it sat on his waist. “In the middle of nowhere.”

The middle of nowhere was good. The middle of nowhere was away from the Empire. 

“Yes.” 

Zakia shook off her daydream, and the Mandalorian looked from her to the ship quickly. “You have lodging?” 

* * *

It was far from difficult, once the lodging was mentioned, to persuade the Mandalorian and his group to come and help. The armored man commanded them to stop along their way back to the village, and slunk off the speeder and into the trees. He had murmured something to the blonde woman who accompanied him, receiving a nod in response. 

Caben and Stoke sat nervously in the front of the speeder, eyes darting about the woods. They felt awkward and inept around the woman who reclined in the back, small green child sitting beside her. The strange being swatted at fireflies as they buzzed by, and it seemed largely unbothered by the blasters strapped to the woman’s legs and the vibroknife in her boot. 

“I’m Zakia, by the way.” 

Caben and Stoke turned to the woman, who was giving a half-smile. The right side of her face was scarred into a gnarled sneer, giving her a wicked appearance in the low light. 

“I’m Stoke. He’s Caben.” Stoke motioned to himself, and then to his fellow villager. “And we really appreciate you two coming along.”

Zakia looked down at the Child beside her, icy eyes softening. “We need this. Peace, I mean.”

“Are you a Mandalorian too? Or- ex? Obviously you don’t wear a helmet.” Stoke spoke up, but his face quickly flooded with heat, “Or, you don’t have to share. Sorry.”

Zakia waved him off, steadying the Child as it wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the speeder. “I’m not a Mandalorian. But I’ve been traveling with this one for years, bounty hunting and working all the jobs nobody wanted to.”

“You’re a bounty hunter too?” Caben inquired, rotating his body so they could have a proper conversation. 

“A mean one, so I’d watch yourself.”

Both men jumped, but the blonde rolled her eyes and shifted so she could see the Mandalorian enter their small circle of light. Another woman trailed behind him, this one dark-haired and tall with a no-nonsense look that could make the strongest men fear for their lives. 

“You’re such a sweetheart.” Zakia snapped back at him. 

No more words were spoken as everyone was loaded onto the speeder. As expected, the journey back to the village was one that took all night, and they entered the clearing just after dawn broke. The speeder was slowing when Caben chanced a look back to their new friends. The Mandalorian was leaned against one side with both arms spread across the railings. Zakia was curled in a ball, her back against the Mandalorian’s cuirass and head resting on the juncture of his shoulder and arm. The other woman, introduced to them as Cara Dune, rested against her own side, and was seemingly the first one to wake. A soft chirp had both men looking backwards, and the Child peeked its head out from the far side of the Mandalorian. 

“We made it.” Caben nudged his friend, and they stopped the speeder just as the rear occupants began to stir. 

The rest of the village gathered as their armed deterrents unloaded. The children all gushed over the creature traveling with the Mandalorian, while the man dragged boxes from the speeder. They all helped move them into the huts designated for their guests, and the village was humming with happiness. Another emotion found its way in, and many of them hadn’t felt it in a very long time. It was warm, and ran through everyone’s veins like sunshine on a clear day. 

They were hopeful.

  
  
  



	9. Part IX: Danger

“Mando, can you help me?” 

Zakia held two large crates from the ship, one sliding awkwardly overtop of the other and threatening to fall. They were on the small wooden ledge surrounding their hut, courtesy of the thankful village, moving all of their supplies in. The Mandalorian had moved most of the large items, but Zakia had apparently bit off more than she could chew. 

“I got it.” The Mandalorian took the top box, successfully removing it from Zakia’s view. 

She carefully trod into the hut, almost running into Mando’s back as he stopped in front of her. Zakia peeked around his body to see what had stopped him, taking in the tall woman who was anchoring the outside blinds up for them. She recalled Caben mentioning that someone named Omera was setting up their lodging, and assumed this must be her.

“Please come in.” She said, tightening the knot. “I hope this is comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn”

Omera had a kind voice and brown eyes, but Zakia could see the weariness behind her irises. “This will do fine. Your village is very quaint. Peaceful.”

“I’m glad.” Omera smiled gently, and Zakia felt herself gravitate towards the personality. It had been a long time since there had been a motherly figure in her life. “I stacked some blankets over here.” She motioned to the corner. 

Zakia managed to squeeze by Mando and place her box on the ground as he thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. A flash of gray and blue near the door caught Zakia’s eye, and the Mandalorian was already reaching for his blaster by the time she turned around. The offending figure leapt out of sight with a gasp, and Zakia brought a hand to rest on Mando’s arm as she realized it was not a threat. 

Omera glanced between them and the door, before walking over to wrap an arm around the shoulders of a young girl. She bore a striking resemblance to Omera, and Zakia’s lips turned up at the edges. 

“This is my daughter, Winta.” She introduced as the girl clung to her skirts. “We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not used to strangers.”

Zakia waved a hand in greeting, attempting to dispel some of the tension that had grown in the room. Winta managed a small smile back, fingers lifting off her mother’s shirt in the smallest hint of a wave. 

“These nice people are going to help protect us from the bad ones.” Omera explained to her daughter, stroking a hand through her hair. 

Winta lifted her head, brown eyes darting between Mando and Zakia. 

“Thank you.”

It was barely a whisper, but it caused the motherly feeling within Zakia to flare. The warmth that spread through her was the same as when she held the Child, who was toddling about behind Cara outside the hut. Winta’s scared eyes and timid voice seemed to affect Mando as well, though no one else would ever pick up on it lest the helmet be removed. 

Omera gave the couple a fond once-over before ushering Winta off the small porch. “Come on, Winta. Let’s give our guests some room.” 

The family took their leave, and Zakia turned to Mando. “I think this place will be good to us.”

Emotionless steel stared back at her, but the voice gave away all she needed to know. “I think you’re right.”

* * *

The Mandalorian was unused to the sounds of children playing and people milling about so close by. 

Zakia was scouting the edge of the village with Cara, though Din was fairly sure she was just bored sitting around and needed an excuse to move. The village was quaint, as she had said, and it was something foreign to the hunters. His own lack of action manifested into an afternoon of weapons maintenance. After cleaning his own blaster and handing it off to Zakia, he took hers and offered to clean and oil them. She accepted and kissed his helmet before taking off with Cara. 

Having made his way through a quarter of the blasters and rifles in the crates they had moved in, Mando settled on taking care of his Amban rifle. The pronged weapon was getting used more and more as Zakia once again acted as long-distance support on missions. It was a rhythm he had missed- one they had forgone after her injury. Before they traveled together, it was fairly common for them to work together on a large bounty. Din would go in the front and draw the attention, and Zakia would pick off the enemies as they appeared. She’d been damn good, and the _best_ , according to many. To both their surprise, the injury she’d befallen at the hands of the Wookiee damaged her facial muscles beyond comprehension. Sniping proved much more difficult with half a face that refused to listen to nerve signals.

Din focused on the rifle, carefully removing the pronged end to clean the connections and oil the threads where it screwed together. A knock echoed from the hut’s entrance, and he didn’t have to turn. After many years of wearing a helmet and using his ears, Din learned to identify people by their footsteps very easily. And they were too heavy to be Zakia. 

“Come in.” He grunted, wiping a rag over the tip of the rifle. 

His shoulders moved just enough so he could see Omera enter with a tray of food and cup of water beside the provisions. Her daughter followed close behind, eyes on the Child which rocked in a small wooden bassinet behind him. The creature’s ears perked up at the girl’s appearance, and Mando heard her giggle as he continued his work. 

“Can I feed him?” The quiet voice of Winta reached his ears, and Din felt the hair on his neck rise.

A protective instinct rose within him, making his limbs jittery and his throat tight. He fought the feeling back, squashing it with confidence and looking back at the girl. 

“Sure.”

He watched the girl carefully out of the corner of his visor. She knelt down to his level and the baby giggled happily, clawed hands reaching out for her hair. Mando had noticed the fascination it had with woman’s hair, as it had stared down Cara’s when they were on the speeder the previous night, and always reached out to grab Zakia’s wild curls. Winta kept her hair out of reach, but instead satisfied the Child with a small piece of cheese. It chirped happily as it accepted the meal, and Din couldn’t help the smile beneath his helmet. 

He was almost finished with the Amban rifle when Winta spoke. “Can I play with him?”

Again with the jitters. It was harder to push away this time, and Din grit his teeth. He was unwilling to admit his attachment to the creature, but at the same time didn’t want it out of his sight. 

“Sure.” The answer was choked out, but his modulator helped to hide the edge in his voice. Din propped the rifle against a nearby create and bent forward to place the Child on the wooden floor. 

It toddled and babbled after Winta, and Mando’s body moved forward out of instinct when they made it to the threshold. 

“I don’t think-” 

Omera waved him off, “They’ll be fine.”

His body propelled him another step forward. “I don’t-”

“They’ll be fine.” This time the woman took a step in his path, obviously sensing his distress. 

Din realized then he hadn’t been alone in an unfamiliar place in a long time, and it explained some of the anxiety that mounted in his brain. Zakia was out of his sight and the Child as well, and his heart was racing beneath his beskar.

“I brought you some food. I noticed you didn’t eat with Zakia before she left.” Omera motioned to the tray which she’d sat on the windowsill, “I’ll leave it for when I go.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” The Mandalorian said, wiping the remaining oil from his hands. 

His hands that absolutely were not shaking with unjustified paranoia.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

The roundabout question momentarily pulled Din’s mind away from the feelings swirling around his brain. His eyes found Omera in his peripherals, and his body relaxed a touch. The woman was docile and kind, and Din admired that which remained after everything she had been through. 

“Go ahead.”

The shifting of Omera’s robes indicated her hesitancy. “How long has it been since you’ve taken that off?”

It was the question everybody had, but few were brave enough to ask. Din admired the courage she had in asking, and sighed. When on missions, the days rolled by with the helmet over his head. He tried not to count, only beginning to maintain some semblance of normalcy when Zakia began traveling with him and he would take it off at night. He tried each night to remove it, taking a few moments to plunge the living quarters into darkness and allow Zakia to touch his face. To card her fingers through her hair and remind him that he did in fact have a home. But it had been a day since his helmet was removed. Their recent shenanigans with regards to the Child had left their previously managed schedule in disarray. 

“Yesterday” Din decided. He thought he remembered waking up and pulling it on, though that very well could have been the previous day. Time felt different in space. 

“I mean, in front of someone else.” Omera pressed. 

Din could hear the concern and feel the mothering. He hadn’t embraced anything like it since he was a child. Zakia cared for him in a very specific way; they were partners and they did love each other. However, Zakia was never one for doting. She knew he could handle himself and he acknowledged she could do the same. Losing their unborn child had made her grow cold and callous. Their love had faded, but the bond they shared never would. But their acquisition of the Child had reinvigorated something long gone. Something Omera seemed to possess and lend out to anyone in need. 

“I wasn’t much older than they are.” Din motioned to the children playing outside the window, ignoring the twinge of sadness that came along with memories of his childhood. 

Omera’s face fell into what Din could only describe as sadness. “You haven’t shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?” 

It was unlike him to allow these types of questions, but Omera’s nurturing nature and motherly tone didn’t indicate her as an enemy. The opposite, in fact. “No. I was happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Omera said softly. Her hands moved as if she wanted to comfort him but thought better of it. 

“This is the Way.” 

The saying seemed lost on her, but the woman nodded curtly. “Let us know if there is anything you need. And, please extend the same courtesy to your family.” 

The word family hit Din like a charging mudhorn- and he knew what that felt like. It knocked the wind out of him and plunged him headfirst into a freezing stream of emotion. The helmet suddenly felt too tight, and he maneuvered to the windowsill. He remained in the shadows and shed the beskar, sucking in a deep breath. The plate of food was dragged closer automatically as he realized how empty his stomach was. 

The Child was directly in front of him, surrounded by other village children who were gigging excitedly. Din drew in a breath and rubbed his face. His mind was racing, and he gulped down the glass of water like it was his last. The food followed shortly after, and Din found himself munching through a pack of the spicy bantha jerky Zakia liked so much. 

Nerves calmed and stomach satiated, Din slipped the helmet back on. He stood near the windowsill for a moment, this time so the children could see him. The Child seemed to sense his presence, and cooed at him from his playtime. Two other figures who he quickly recognized as Zakia and Cara crossed through the village center, the former kneeling to say hello to the Child. Din’s breath caught as he watched the creature smile at her and tug her curls. Watching her interact with the kid had the jittery, protective feeling shooting back through his limbs. These were his people. 

His  _ family. _

* * *

Though she had come back appearing to be in a good mood, Zakia had always done well hiding her concerns. Her and Cara had entered the hut quietly, each taking a seat as they explained their suspicions. DIn’s stomach lurched at the fact that there may be a AT-ST concealed in the trees, and hoped Cara and Zakia were simply overreacting. 

However, he was the one who was wrong. 

Din followed the women back to the sight of their find, kneeling down near the patterned footprint. It was an obvious indication of the machine’s presence, and he gritted his teeth. There was no way the tiny village plus him, Zakia, and Cara could fight off an Imperial Walker. 

“Bad news” He had announced when they made it back to the village, “You can’t live here anymore.”

The village erupted into mumblings of disbelief, and some stared at the trio of warriors on the porch. Din stood in the middle, with Zakia and Cara on either side. The blonde smacked his arm at the declaration, the ice shards she called eyes rolling. “ _ Stars,  _ Mando.”

“You think you can do better?” He snarked, nuding her ribs with his elbow. 

Cara snorted. “Can’t do much worse.” 

Much to Din’s relief, the dark-haired woman stepped forward. “I know this is not the news you wanted to hear.”

“You took the job!” They protested. Din bristled, but he knew they villagers couldn’t comprehend the danger. They had never experienced the carnage that an AT-ST was capable of.

“We didn’t know about the AT-ST when you found us.” Zakia remarked, lips dropping into a frown. 

“What is that?” It was one of the two men who initially met Zakia and Mando who spoke. 

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t tell us.” Cara returned, eyes catching Din’s visor and Zakia’s icy ones before turning back to the crowd. 

They all murmured their protests, begging for help. Din’s eyes landed on Winta, who cradled the Child to her chest and pressed into her mother’s side as the agitation grew. 

“We have nowhere to go.” Omera spoke directly to them, and Din watched the exchange carefully. Zakia chewed on her cheek, puckering the already mangled skin. He could read her eyes, and the pity in them. The village was being hunted, just as he, Zakia, and the Child were. They couldn’t run away like he had. Their whole lives were rooted in this one place, and it was a place Din and Zakia had both agreed that they wanted to stay in. 

“Sure you do.” Cara’s words pulled him out of his reviere. “This is a big planet.”

The villagers began to rile once again, speaking of their family’s history in the village. It became blatantly clear that they were wholly opposed to leaving. Din considered the thought. They could train these people. Teach them how to shoot, how to fight. But going into battle with an AT-ST was a whole different story. 

“I’m sorry. We understand your reluctance, but there are only three of us.” Zakia spoke up, surprising Din. The pity had not left her gaze, but it was evident she cared more for their safety than their village. Things could be replaced. 

“Look around! There’s at least twenty here. We can learn!”

“I’ve seen that thing take out entire companies of soldiers in a matter of minutes!” Cara exclaimed, looking to Zakia and Mando for help. The former nodded in agreement, but Mando leaned against the wood hut, internal debate raging. 

What was happening to him?

“We’re not leaving.” Omera insisted. Her eyes darted from Zakia to Din, pleading for support from someone who could sway the shock-trooper’s opinion.

“You can’t fight an AT-ST.” Zakia reiterated Cara’s statement, blue eyes shifting across the crowd. “I’m sorry.”

“Unless we show them how.” 

Both women whirled on their heel to face the Mandalorian. Cara maintained a neutral expression, but the concern in her eyes was clear. Zakia simply stared before brushing by him into the hut.The villagers were too busy whooping and cheering to notice the exchange, but Cara cocked a brow. 

“You got your work cut out for you.” She said, stepping off the porch. 

Mando glanced down at her, mind already planning their training. He had the guns here, but there were other weapons in the ship he hadn’t brought. “We’ll have to make a trip back to the Crest, but-”

Cara chuckled. “Not with the villagers.”

She disappeared into the small crowd, and Din stared at the empty space she had occupied. He knew Zakia had been strained after all of their sudden lifestyle changes, and the added stress of the Walker seemed to stretch her further. Din had hoped the decision would make her happy- if they were to stay there with the kid, it had to be safe. 

Biting the inevitable bullet, the Mandalorian turned on his heel and left the people to their devices. Inside their dwelling, Zakia was sitting on the small futon near the windowsill with a blank gaze pointed towards the treeline. Mando took a moment to cover their door with a canvas and pull the drape over the window. She didn’t flinch as he came and sat beside her in the now-darkened room. 

“You’re angry.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I’m not.” Zakia rubbed her eyes as if trying to wash the emotion away. 

“Then you are..?” Din never was good at gauging a woman’s mood, and he assumed it wasn’t the best time to guess. 

“I don’t know. Hormonal?” Zakia supplied. 

Din flinched, and she lifted her head to look at him. 

“Don’t worry it’s not serious. Just, between the shootout and the kid, and everything else. I’m a little frazzled. I want to stay here, but these people can’t fight a Walker, Din.” Zakia leaned into his side, nudging her hands beneath his cuirass and holding onto his undershirt. 

“Maybe they’ll surprise you.” He thought of Omera and her child, and didn’t doubt Zakia inferred something from his statement. 

“Speaking of,” Zakia set her chin on his pauldron. “It seems that you made quite a connection with Omera.”

“She’s very kind.” Mando said, hand moving from his lap to stretch across Zakia’s shoulders. 

“I noticed.” Zakia tapped her nails against his beskar, and Mando wished they were on his skin. “I think she likes you.”

Din snorted, and the modulator changed it into a strangled sound that Zakia giggled at. 

“For real! Maybe I’ll take the Crest and go back to bounty hunting. I’ll leave you here with the widow.” Her face was serious, but her words were teasing. “Really though, I think she’s hiding something.”

“What would that be?”

“I don’t know, Din, I just feel it.” Zakia told him. “I’m good at people.”

-

Their training began the next morning. Mando worked with blaster skills, Cara with staff and bayonetting, and Zakia with preparation. The blonde was teaching them how to put their wooden fence up, and where to dig out the ponds to create a trap for the Walker. She only paused when they began target practice across camp. Her group continued working as she strolled to Mando’s side. The villagers were firing one by one down the line. Each missed or ricocheted, until they reached the end. Omera stood there with a repeat blaster to her shoulder, and fired off near twenty shots that hit the target dead center each time. 

Mando tilted his head in curiosity, and Zakia’s elbow was once again in his ribs. “Told you.”

When sunset fell and Zakia was strapping on her holsters so they could draw the enemy out, she noticed a presence on the porch where Mando stood. Omera stepped up quietly, and Zakia narrowed her eyes. She was a sweet woman, that was a fact, but she was hiding something. There was no reason that a villager from Sorgan would have ever had weapons training as she demonstrated. 

“You’ll be departing soon.” Zakia could hear Omera’s voice from her position on the bedroll. She finished strapping her boots and listened closely. 

“And when we return, we’ll be coming in hot.” Mando replied. Zakia looked towards them, and her eye twitched at the proximity. She caught herself shortly after, sitting up straight so quickly she almost had whiplash. 

She was  _ jealous.  _

Zakia almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it, and a short guffaw broke through her lips. She knew the Mandalorian would never give anyone a chance except her, and she was comfortable in their relationship. What she was feeling came from somewhere deep and instinctual. 

“Are you okay?” 

Zakia shook her head to clear it, looking up at the form in front of her. Cara was ready to go, guns on her hips and hair freshly tied back. The blonde stood, striding out of the hut with Cara to where Mando was waiting. Zakia couldn’t help the urge to touch him, and reached a hand to the underside of his pauldron. Din looked to her as she initiated the contact, and she would imagine his eyes were confused. 

“Are we ready?” Zakia asked, repossessing her hand. 

“Yes. Clear on the plan?” Mando asked aloud, boots whispering on the grass they stood on just outside of their Walker booby-trap. 

“Draw them here and bring the Walker. We’ll take it down, and then handle the raiders.” Cara recited.

Zakia nodded in agreement as they headed into the forest to end Sorgan’s conflict once and for all. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Part X: Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I posted Chapter 9 & 10 tonight, so don't forget to check out Chapter 9 if you haven't already. Episode 4 (Sanctuary) gave me a really hard time, and it was harder to find a flow than it normally is for me. I'm working on episodes 5 & 6 right now, and they're much more fun to write for.  
> So, here's both chapters to close up Episode 4, and we'll get onto more action :)  
> Again, thank you for the kudos, comments, and messages. It makes me keep going each time I get tired. <3

Easy was an understatement when it came to taking out the three Klatoonians sitting around the fire. They had been drinking spotchka- stolen, no doubt, while chattering in a strange language Zakia had only heard a few times. Her, Cara, and Mando had all taken one. Armed with vibroblades courtesy of the Mandalorian, their first attack was silent. The plan had been hammered out on their way into the woods, and the trio maintained their silence. A nod of confirmation passed between them to acknowledge they were ready, so they headed towards the main tent where most of the noise came from. 

“Damn.” Zakia murmured. They had flattened themselves against the wall near the entrance, concealed in the shadows but a quick glance to the left found a fire on the far side of camp. The raiders were gathered around it, all conversing in their strange jibberish. 

Cara nudged Zakia and looked to Mando, ensuring they were all ready to breech the tent. It was no use to go after all of them at once- their goal was to get the Walker up and moving and get the fight to their own turf. They wanted to draw the raider’s attention, not to be outnumbered in unfamiliar territory. 

All three burst into the canvas building, blasters drawn. Nothing answered them but bubbling vats of spotchka, the liquid glowing a pale blue in the dim tent. Zakia watched Mando pull a charge from his belt, striding to the opposite end of the tent to attach it to a post. He nodded at the two women, making his way back where they’d come. 

A shuffling outside had all three of them frozen, and Zakia motioned to the door and nodded at Cara. Mando braced himself directly in front of the entrance, and the remaining to warriors moved to stand on either side of the door. 

The Klatoonians came in a few moments after, feet bulky and trudging across the dirt. They paused upon seeing the Mandalorian in their tent, but Zakia and Cara were already on them. More began piling in as the sound of struggling drifted out of the tent. Zakia rammed her knee into her opponent’s gut, causing him to double over and meet her other knee with his face. The beast lunged towards her, and Zakia leapt off the ground. One hand on his shoulder, she pushed herself up and over his back to wrap her legs around his neck. She dipped her weight forward and then to the side, bringing the Klatoonian to his knees as she could finally reach the knife in her boot. 

They were trapped in the haze of battle, all too aware of the beeping charge in the rear of the building. Zakia ducked behind one of the spotchka tanks as the raiders came in shooting bolts, ramming her shoulder into Mando’s pauldrons. She drew both blasters, holding them up in front of her.

“How you doing?” Mando breathed. 

“Great, thanks for asking.” Zakia’s chest heaved, partially from exertion and partially from the fact that the charge near them was close to going off and they were trapped. “But we need to get out.” She 

“Hey!” Cara called from her own position behind a vat, motioning to a weak portion of wall just to their right. 

Zakia pointed her blasters at it, firing repeatedly until it rattled with each shot. Mando helped haul her up, looking to Cara. 

“You go, I’ll cover you!” 

Cara made a run for the wall, Zakia following once the shock-trooper had rammed it down. Mando was hot on their heels, and all three were tossed into the dirt like ragdolls when the explosion went off. Zakia blinked the fuzziness from her eyes and shook her head in an attempt to stop the ringing in her ears. 

“I hope the plan worked.” Cara said from the other side of Mando. 

Zakia was about to reply when a mechanical clanking replaced the crackling of the fire behind them. All three looked up at the same time, and ice shot through Zakia’s veins. Two huge red opticals shined through the trees, rising up as the AT-ST was awakened. 

“I think it worked.” Zakia muttered breathlessly, climbed to her feet. She was promptly shoved forwards by Din. 

“Go! Go!” 

Zakia didn’t need to be told twice. Her and Caria were in the front and rear, respectively, with Mando between both. They had only made it a few meters when the machine began firing. Each shot was ear splitting and the group, sans Mando, were instinctively reaching to cover their ears as they ran in a confused zig-zag. The jig confused the giant droid enough that no shots came in too close of proximity, but still close enough that the three were running top-speed out of the woods. The trees near the village were thicker, and it allowed them to put some distance between themselves and the robot. 

There were already guns waiting for the three. Cara slid into position next to the villagers, and Mando adjacent to her. Zakia scaled one of the smaller huts, where the Amban rifle was hovering on its stabilizers. She lined up the sights with the opening they had come through, waiting for the Klatoonians to make their inevitable appearance. The villagers had been wary of her position above them, but the Mandalorian assured them it was the best place for her to be.

“This is it. Once that thing steps into the pond, it’s goin’ down!” Cara called to the lines of people. Each one was armed with a weapon, whether it be a firearm or spear. They were crouched behind wooden stakes in the ground, which acted as a wall to control the appearance of the raiders. 

“ _ Zakia, can you hear me?”  _ Mando’s voice crackled through Zakia’s com unit. She was pulling her headwrap on as he spoke. 

“I got you.” She answered, taking care to conceal herself as best she could. 

“ _ Keep in touch. Cara’s listening too.”  _

Zakia realigned her sights, bringing a long breath and holding it until her heart slowed. It was an ancient technique, but she was in firm belief that it improved her shooting. She kept up until they were on the brink of attack. 

It was not long before the trees started swaying and the metallic clanking from the forest met their ears. Zakia could feel the ground shaking even from her position on the roof, and she turned up the stabilization on her scope. She shivered when the glowing opticals became visible, and lifted her head to watch. 

The AT-ST lumbered towards the camp, slowly padding until it was just in front of the trap they had dug for it. One foot hovered over as if it would step, but the Walker froze. Its opticals took in the environment, and seemed to decide otherwise. It withdrew the foot and locked into place just outside the camp. 

“Mando, It-”

_ “I know. Can you get a shot at one of the opticals?” _

She squinted into the scope, dialing in on the AT-ST’s massive form. Zakia cursed at the shutters which shaded its ‘eyes’. 

“No. I can’t get by the shutters.”

“ _ Keep trying.” _

“I-”

Zakia’s jaw snapped shut when a harsh white light sliced the darkness in half. She shuffled as far as she could to her right, until the small dormer blocked her from view. Mando hissed at the villagers to get down, and they all slowly complied. 

_ “Are you hidden?” _

“You know me. Like a ghost.” Zakia tried to stay aligned with the positives, but the possibility of getting out alive seemed to dwindle each second. She stayed still until the AT-ST’s spotlight swept by her, watching everyone duck down. 

Caben, however, was too slow. The Walker froze when it’s head turned in the man’s direction. Its right gun fired, but overshot the barrier. It struck a small hut used for storage, and Zakia jerked as sparks flew in her direction. 

“ _ Zakia?” _

“Intact.” She peered through the scope, and thermal indicated a group of bodies approaching quickly. “Heads up. They’re coming in.”

Zakia took the first shot just before Cara called out for the village to open fire. Her target burst into ash, and others began falling from the rain of bolts hurtling towards them. Zakia reloaded and aligned her shots periodically, watching raider after raider fall or burst into ash. She could see Mando and Cara trying to communicate, obviously struggling to figure out what to do. 

“Can one of us get right down in front of it?” Zakia called through her com. “In the pond? It won’t be able to fire straight down, but we might provoke it enough to walk.”

“ _ You stay there. I’ll go.”  _ Cara and Din switched weapons, and Zakia watched from her elevated position. “ _ You have a clear path to cover me, blondie?”  _

Zakia snorted. “I’ve got you.”

Cara ran and leapt into the pond, firing shots into the crowd of raiders. The villagers all followed, striking out with their spears and going head to head with the Klatoonians. Zakia kept a steady pace, picking off anyone who came too close the the barrier or compromised a member of their team. 

She swept the scope towards the AT-ST as the giant beast began moving again, taking Cara’s bait. The dark haired woman shot at it from the edge of the pond, and the mechanical monster began to move. Zakia sucked in a breath as her sights locked onto one of the optical units, no longer hidden from the shutters at this angle. 

“I have a shot on the optical.” Zakia reported through the com. 

“ _ Take it!”  _ Cara replied through the static of the link, waving a hand Zakia could only see through the scope. 

“Taking.” 

With a long exhale, Zakia fired the slug. It sailed into its mark, and the Walker’s right unit sparked dangerously. It moved to take a step back, but the foot moved forward instead. Zakia clambered onto her feet as it slipped forward, and the ground beneath it eroded away. It fell hard onto its side, and Mando raced from his position to throw a charge into the busted eye. 

“ _ Brace yourself.” _

Mando dropped into the pond beside Cara, and Zakia ducked behind the dormer once again. The Walker exploded into a ball of flames, an orange plume of dust and smoke rising from it. When it cleared, Zakia could see the raiders fleeing back towards the forest. She took the time to disintegrate a few more, eventually holding her fire to crawl from the roof. 

The townspeople cheered when all the Klatoonians had disappeared, and some embraced Zakia as she stood at the base of the hut, rifle strapped onto her back. A small frame peeked out from the farthest dwelling, and Zakia recognized it to be Winta. 

“You can come out now.” 

The little girl ran out with the Child in her arms. Winta handed the baby to Zakia before hugging her tightly. The blonde sucked in a sharp breath, ignoring the faint stinging behind her eyes. She returned the girl’s embrace at the same time the Child gripped onto her hair and chittered happily. When Winta released her and raced to find her Mom, Zakia held the Child out so she could see him. The big brown eyes were bright and sparkling, and its little mouth was drawn into a smile at the sight of Zakia. It snuggled close as Zakia returned it to her body, clawed hands digging into her headwrap where it lay around her neck. 

“So this is how it’s supposed to be.”

* * *

They stayed on Sorgan for three and a half weeks. 

The village was rebuilt completely, and they were free of raiders. The people were happy, and the Child was entertained by the rest of the children. Zakia and Mando finally had the chance to settle down, for far longer than they ever had together. The planet was exactly what they needed. 

Zakia found herself helping with chores; fishing for krill and learning to brew spotchka. Din had been oddly silent, standing as a constant sentry on the small apron protruding from their hut. 

“What’chya thinkin’ about?” Zakia asked one day as she came to lean into his side. The Mandalorian let himself sway with her actions, one hand lifting to rest gently on her hip. 

“This place. The Child.” He replied, applying pressure to her side to nudge her towards the hut. 

Zakia’s brow furrowed at his actions, but she allowed him to move her inside nonetheless after she checked Winta was still playing with the Child. She watched him carefully, and tilted her head as his shoulders dropped. 

“What’s wrong, Din?”

The Mandalorian squared his shoulders and placed his hands on his hips. “I just wanna talk to you about the kid.”

“Sure.” Zakia sat on the small cot they had been sharing, reaching out for his hand. Her fingers locked with his, and she pulled him down to sit beside her. His cuisses and pauldrons were cold where they pressed against her clothes, but Zakia was more concerned about the sigh slipping out from beneath his helmet. 

“I think we need to leave.” 

Zakia couldn’t do anything more than gape at Mando, taken aback by the sudden proclamation. She lifted a hand to point, but dropped it back into her lap. Sorgan had finally allowed them peace, and he wanted to leave? To ruin it for the Child who wasn’t old enough to protect himself from the looming Imperial presence?

“You- hold on, I don’t think I understand.” Zakia’s voice morphed into a disbelieving laugh at the end. “You want us to go and ruin all of this? Go back on the run with a Child?”

“He wouldn’t be coming.” 

Zakia stood from the cot, pacing the room like a caged lion. It was all she could do to keep her anger in check. He had just told her on Nevarro that he didn’t want to lose another kid, but now her companion was suggesting they leave the Child on Sorgan. The one place they had finally found their sought-after peace. 

“Zakia, we raised a lot of hell here. Word’s gonna get out eventually, and we’re going to have to leave them. If we have to go, I’d rather it be on our own terms.” Din’s shoulders were slumped, and he dropped his head into his hands. 

“You just told me-” Zakia swallowed to rein back the tears that bit at her eyes. “You  _ told me  _ that you wouldn’t leave another kid. Din, I can’t. I can’t leave him here. Why can’t we stay? In the worse case, we’d be a deterrent. We could at least protect him from the Empire if we stayed.”

Din dragged himself to his feet, stepping into the path Zakia had been treading into the floor. His hands held her wrists, and he pinned her in place. 

“Omera said she would care for him. We can come back, let the heat die down.” Mando’s reasoning was solid, but Zakia shook her head, trying to pull from his grip. 

“I’m not leaving, Din! I lost our child. I’m not leaving this one behind.” She cried, fighting the iron grip on her wrists. “Since when do you hold her opinion above mine?”

The Mandalorian froze, and he dropped her hands. His visor seemed darker than ever as Zakia stood toe-to-toe with him, frustration coming to a head with her words. He took a full step back, and Zakia refused to move. Her icy eyes were pointed directly at his helmet, swirling with fury.

“Do  _ not _ try and turn this around.” He spat. “The idea to leave was my own, and I asked Omera. I went through everything you did. I held you, and I took care of you.”

Zakia opened her mouth to respond, but the Mandalorian swept a hand out in front of him in a silencing gesture. 

“I’m not done.” Din growled. “Do you know how many times I’ve almost broken the Creed I was  _ sworn  _ into? For you? Because I want you to be able to see me? Not a helmet, and not armor, just  _ me _ . So don’t ever suggest that someone else is more important.”

Her brain scrambled to keep up, but it was too floored by his words to form a response. She could read the emotion in his body, and see his hands clenched into fists. The physical signs were there, but this was the first occasion his real feelings had been articulated. Zakia and Din had been together for longer than she cared to remember, and he had never told her any of this. 

“Y-You wanted to break the Creed?” Zakia stuttered. “For me?”

Din’s head fell, and he dropped back onto the cot. “Want. I want to stay here with you and the kid and Cara and everybody. It’s just not feasible.”

Zakia took in a ragged breath, crossing the room to her Mandalorian. He sat with elbows on knees and his helmet resting in his hands. “Maybe it is.” 

“We’ll be fighting our whole lives.” Din looked up at Zakia, who twisted her shirt nervously.

“We’re going to be fighting no matter where we are.” The blonde murmured. “It’s what we do.”

Zakia brought one hand up to rest on Mando’s helmet, and her fingers brushed down to the rim. They slid underneath, stroking gently at his hairline. Din’s hand eventually found hers, pulling it away from his neck and holding it. 

“Take it off.” 

Zakia’s joints stiffened, and she froze into place. She knew exactly what he meant, but her brain didn’t want to believe it. Her hands were stuck in place, and Zakia was fairly sure she couldn’t move if she tried. 

“Din, I can’t. Your tribe- t-the Creed.” She found herself unable to form a coherent sentence, and the feeling was exaggerated when he stood into her personal space. Her hand was still folded in between his, and he brought it to rest against his helmet. The beskar tilted towards the doorway of their hut, shining in the bright light from outside.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the sun.” His voice was soft, longing 

Tears leaked from her eyes, falling down her face in shining rivers. “I love you.”

Zakia’s hands ran along the brim, tips of her fingers brushing his chin. She lifted gently, feeling the metal rise with her hands. She bit her lip and allowed her eyes to fall closed. It felt wrong to watch his identity to be torn away. To watch his life change forever. 

_ BANG. _

Both parties jumped up straight, chests heaving. There was no mistaking the sound as anything other than a gunshot. Zakia looked at the visor- once again- and they both ran for the door. 

“Find the kid!” 

Zakia bolted from the door, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Din had ran for the woods where Cara was yelling. She raced to the spot where the Child and Winta had been playing, spotting the kids all huddled together in fear. Omera was crouched beside them, arms outstretched around them. 

“What’s happening?” The woman asked Zakia. 

“It was a gunshot. I don’t know.” The blonde managed, leaning down to pick up the Child. His face was squished in concern, and he whined when Zakia pulled him close. 

“Are you alright?” Omera continued. 

Zakia could see Cara and Din exit the woods, the former shaking his head and looking at his feet. 

Zakia nodded. “I’m fine. But I think this might be my last day on Sorgan.”

She wasn’t wrong. 

They loaded their belongings into the speeder later that day. The shot had come from a bounty hunter with a tracking fob, and it was a clear sign they were not safe. Din and Zakia had spoken only as necessary since she’d almost removed the helmet, but there was no words to convey their feelings. 

“When our paths cross.”

Zakia turned from the speeder, looking to where Mando and Cara had firmly grasped each other’s wrist in a reflection of their first meeting. The shock-trooper turned to Zakia, holding out a hand. Zakia returned the gesture same as Mando.

“Take care of this one.” Cara nodded at Mando, and the blonde chuckled. 

“I try my best.”

Omera wandered to them to say her goodbyes, giving Din a brief nod and Zakia a tight hug. The Child was placed onto the back of the speeder, followed by its two guardians. Mando told the droid to move and they drifted towards the woods, leaving Sorgan behind. 

  
  



	11. Part XI: Work

“Right! Right, Mando!” 

Zakia was holding onto the co-pilot’s seat for dear life, the Child clinging to her shirt in much the same fashion. The Crest banked and dived as another hunter pursued, yammering threats through the communicator.

“I know how to steer, Zakia.” Din snapped. The Mandalorian’s feet were anchored on the floor to keep himself from moving. 

“ _ Hand over the Child, Mando.”  _ A voice crackled through the com, and Zakia scrambled from her seat to the dash, gripping tightly to the Child. She shoved herself close to Mando and pressed the button for the com. 

“Anden? Is that you?” Zakia shouted, “If Mando doesn’t kill you, I’m gonna kick your ass into the ground so hard you’ll never see the sun again!”

They may not have been friendly with all the hunters, but Zakia was certainly familiar with most of the Guild’s repeat customers. Nej Anden, at least she had thought, had been one of the amicable ones. 

“ _ Make your Mandalorian hand over the asset.”  _ Nej commanded.

The mentioned blonde stumbled as the ship was jerked to the side and they could see the streaks of blasters shooting by the windscreen. Damage sensors began screeching in the background, and the Child giggled obliviously as it fisted Zakia’s jacket. 

“ _ I might let you live.” _

Another round of fire had them stumbling again, and the computer indicated damage to the left engine. Mando tapped at the screen before switching back to the joysticks. His arm snaked out and caught Zakia, securing her to his side. 

“Hold on.” 

He pulled up and then pushed hard to the left. The ship lurched into a barrel roll, and Zakia could not prevent the yelp from escaping her lips. The artificial gravity kept her tight against the pilot’s chair, but her fingers still dug into Din’s arm. The Child squealed in delight, smacking a tiny hand against Zakia’s collarbone. 

“Uh, he’s still back there.” Zakia managed as she unglued herself from the Mandalorian. 

“Come on.” Mando muttered, pulling at the joystick. The proximity sensors blared and told them they’d been locked onto for a target, cut short by the com unit. 

“ _ I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”  _ Anden called. 

“Hold on again.” Din said. Zakia gripped the controls and the back of Mando’s chair. He pulled back abruptly on the joysticks, and all three passengers were jerked forward with the force of the ship’s sudden halt. Zakia moved to stand, but a shape flew above and clipped the ship; she recognized it to be Nej’s small cruiser. 

Mando geared up the blasters, and Zakia sighed in relief when the targeting system locked onto Anden’s craft. She pressed down on the com unit, a smirk playing at her lips. 

“Night night, Anden.”

Din fired, and Anden’s ship exploded in a burst of color. The baby laughed again, and Zakia raised her eyebrows. “Talk about a dark sense of humor.”

The alarms on the dash continued flashing, all of them beeping obnoxiously. Mando was frantically tapping at the Navicomputer, looking for answers. His hands were busy flipping switches when he spoke. 

“What’s the diagnostic say, Zak?” 

Zakia stepped to her left, one hand leaving the Child to run along the screen. “Losing fuel.”

Just as she was about to read into the issue, everything went black. 

“Perfect” Din shook the steering component in spite of its dead state, turning back to Zakia. 

“Backup?” She questioned. The Child sputtered incoherent words after her, rotating in her arms so he faced outwards. 

“I’ll get it.” He stood from the pilot’s chair, and the Child keened from Zakia’s arms. It reached out tri-clawed fingers, stretching towards the Mandalorian. Din paused for a moment, but the cold of space was already beginning to penetrate the ship. Zakia stepped to the side to allow Din access to the backup panels, where he flipped a few switches to power the vessel back up. It took a moment, but the lights began to return with a high-pitched whirring. 

“Oh, rejoice.” Zakia hummed, shuffling towards the heating unit that opened up in the back of the cabin. “I take it you’re putting us down there.”

She motioned to the planet before them, and Mando dipped his head. “Yes. Tatooine.”

“Oh.” Zakia leaned over his shoulder to see, depositing the Child onto Din’s lap as it once again stretched towards him. “Well, there used to be a Guild tavern there and a couple Underworld guys. I don’t think the tavern hired hunters anymore, but we can probably get a job.”

“Get the bags?” Din asked, turning his helm in her direction

Since she almost removed his helmet on Sorgan, they had both been gravitating a little closer than usual. At first they’d been hesitant to restart a normal routine, but being in such close quarters all the time quickly dispelled the tension. Din was more physical, touching her warmly each time they passed and nudging her head with his helmet. Zakia, still a bit shell-shocked from the experience, had been soft-spoken. Her admittedly cheeky attitude was still in full-force, but it softened when she was alone with the Mandalorian. Though the helmet still hadn’t come off, an unsaid question hung in the air. Would it come off? Did Din still want to remove it? Zakia didn’t dare voice the curiosity biting at her, but she had a feeling the Mandalorian was all too aware. 

The air control for Tatooine confirmed a hangar number with Din, and he guided the ship down to it. One hand on the controls and one holding the Child gently in his lap, he managed a shaky landing. Zakia had retreated to the bottom of the ship, opening the weapons cabinet and withdrawing her blasters and Mando’s. She slid a vibroknife into her boot and made sure it was secure. 

“You’re coming to the tavern?” Din searched for a confirmation as he descended the ladder. The Child was resting on his shoulder asleep, suckling unconsciously on the fabric of the Mandalorian’s cloak. 

“Yes.” Zakia pulled the sun salve from one of her bags, slapping it on her face. Her curls bounced down around her shoulders, brushing the exposed skin of her arms. The heat of Tatooine was tangible even inside the craft. “I just have to find a different shirt.”

Din tucked the Child into its designated bunk, taking a moment to ensure it was sleeping before sealing it in. He meandered to the other set of quarters, finding Zakia ransacking the small alcove she used as her own personal wardrobe. Her back was to him and she was shirtless, top covered only by her bra and scarf she used to cover her face. The gauzy black fabric hung around her neck, teasing him to touch the skin underneath. Din stood quietly, not making his presence known for the first few seconds. After a few moments passed and she was still empty handed, the Mandalorian crept forward and reached an arm around her waist. He tugged her back until her rear end was pressed tight against his groin and her head rested on his shoulder. 

“I can’t find what I want.” She complained, blasters rattling at her sides as she stomped childishly. 

“I think you look good like this.” Din’s modulator barely picked up his words, but he knew she could hear. 

“Well, Tatooine’s hot.” Zakia shifted her legs, and Mando sucked in a breath. “I could get a good tan going out like this.” 

Their time on Sorgan, though filled with emotion and longing, had not allowed them an interaction like this. They were both still hurting from his almost-breaking of the Creed, but Din knew he couldn’t chance it. As long as they were vulnerable, he would never remove the helmet for her to see. The week or so they had been traveling in space after leaving the forest planet was healing for them, but both adults still had urges. They were both used to traveling alone; having the Child greatly decreased their time normally reserved for intimacy.

“No one-” Din tightened his grip on her waist after she spoke, “-gets to see this.”

Zakia’s laughter was soothing. “Alright, calm down. I think you’re getting a little green, Din.”

He snorted, spinning the petite woman around to face him. “Eyes.”

She didn’t need to be told what he wanted. Zakia complied with his request, lashes kissing her cheeks as her eyes flickered closed. Din pulled off his helmet and took a deep breath, pressing his mouth to hers. Zakia melted into him as his teeth gently nipped her lip. 

“You have no idea,” Din’s hands traveled up her sides, and he eventually broke away and hugged her close. He nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and inhaled, happy to be feeling her skin instead of the padding in his helmet. “How bad I want you to open your eyes.”

Zakia’s arms tightened their hold on his neck, and she pushed onto her tiptoes to cradle him closer. “Not now.” 

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips against her neck lightly before pulling away and replacing his helmet. 

Zakia watched him carefully, cheeks flushed an adorable pink from their encounter. She shuffled around their quarters a bit more until her desired shirt was located and they could disembark. She checked on the Child, ducking her head into the small nook. 

“If we’re only gone for a little bit he doesn’t have to go. You know how well he sleeps.” Mando said, fingers tapping the code for the hatch into his vambrace. 

“I know, I’d just hate to see what would happen if he wakes up alone.” Zakia pressed the button to close his bunk. “You promise it won’t be long?”

The hatch hissed as it opened. Manda raised a brow underneath the helmet and his expression seemed to reach her even through the helmet. “Zak.”

The blonde huffed and followed him down the ramp. She was adjusting the strap on her holsters when a shot rang out, startling her enough to leap into the air. Zakia seized the nearest thing to maintain balance, which just happened to be Mando’s arm. Her eyes moved down the extremity, all the way to where his blaster was still smoking. Three DUM pit droids were all in compact form, opticals flicking back and forth. Zakia moved her hand from Din’s bicep to his head, rapping her fingers against the beskar. 

“Seriously, Mando?” 

“Hey! Hey!” 

The droids all extended their legs. Zakia laughed when the one Din had shot at refused to move, and his counterpart kicked the tin head. 

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it!” 

Zakia followed Mando down the ramp, looking in the direction of the small office. A woman was striding purposefully towards Mando, finger pointing angrily in his direction. She was older than Zakia by quite a bit, but she radiated ferocity. A head of curly brown hair spun even tighter than Zakia’s framed her face. Dressed in a mechanic’s suit, she seemed to be quite a firecracker. 

“Just keep them away from my ship.” Din said of the droids, motioning to where they’d run off. 

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea, do ya?” She wore a small battered name tag that read ‘Peli’, and Zakia stepped around the Mandalorian’s hulking body. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. He’s got a real…  _ thing  _ for droids.” Zakia interjected. “If the work could be done without them, we’d appreciate it.”

Peli looked at the blonde, and then back to her looming partner. “You could learn a thing or two from this one.” 

Zakia saw Din’s foot tapping the ground with impatience, and Peli seemed to pick up on it as well. The mechanic approached the Crest, banging on the hull and pulling a handheld scanner from her belt. 

“Oof! Look at that!” She paused, pointing her handhold towards the top of the ship. “Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scoring building up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shootout.”

Zakia’s eyes flicked to Mando, who swayed uncomfortably but remained silent. Peli continued to mull about, inspecting the landing gear and commenting on the fuel leak. 

“This is a mess! How did you even land?” She tucked the tool back in her belt and approached the pair. “That’s gonna set you back.” 

“I’ve got five hundred Imperial Credits.” Din held them out, and Peli snatched them from his hand. She inspected the currency for a moment, looking to her droids for confirmation. 

“That’s all you got? What do you guys think?” 

The droids chattered back, still refusing to come any closer to the Mandalorian. 

“It should at least cover the hangar.” She told them, looking to Zakia. “I’m trustin’ you.”

“I’ll get you your money.” Mando told her. Zakia raised an eyebrow at his words. “Just remember…”

“Yeah, no droids. I heard ya. You don’t have to say it twice.” Peli stopped him, and Zakia stepped forward. She rested a hand on Mando’s forearm and looked to Peli. 

“Thank you. We’ll be back shortly.” She herded her partner to the hangar door, pushing him through and hopping out behind him. “And you were being so sweet just a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t like droids.” He bit out as the Tatooine suns’ rays enveloped their bodies. 

“Oh, I’m aware.” She cracked her neck and pulled the headwrap to cover as much of her face as she could. “Someone told me that the market here used to have a guy who offered under the table work. Do you wanna check there or the cantina?”

The Mandalorian surveyed the desert planet. “You have the comlink under there?”

“Yeah.” Zakia chirped, tapping her ear. “Wanna split up?”

“Find the cantina, I’ll check in the market. This place seems pretty dead.” Din told her. 

“I’ll beep you if I find something.” Zakia turned down the first street after making her departure from Mando. She followed the curve to a small building, and the path ended abruptly at its front. 

“Wow.” She whispered to herself. Along the left side of the building, a group of spears shot up from the sand. However, her eyes were drawn to the Stormtrooper helmets skewered on them. She knew the legends about Tatooine- about Luke Skywalker coming from the miserable place- but never had observed how deeply their hatred for the Empire ran. With Karga’s disclosure about the Empire’s interest in her at the forefront of her mind, Zakia was thankful for the display. 

Once she averted her gaze, she spotted another building with just a few individuals milling about outside. Zakia strode towards it, pausing to check for anyone tailing her or possibly recognizing her. She entered the establishment and was met with a lack of general tavern noise. A couple men leaned on the bar, and a Kwa was chittering at a human a few tables down. 

Zakia made her approach, icy eyes wary. She propped an arm on the bar, examining the droid tending it. “Hey. I’m a hunter, looking for work. You know of anything?”

It must have been an old droid, for its voice was mechanical and unused. “Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine.” 

Zakia readjusted so she was closer and lowered her voice. “I don’t want work from the Guild.” 

“I am afraid that does not improve your situation.” It monotoned, “At least by my calculations.”

Zakia sighed, curls blowing. She tapped on her ear. “Mando?”

“ _ I hear you.” _

“Nothing here. I’m gonna grab a drink.” Zakia murmured, motioning for the droid to pour. It did as she requested, and deposited a glass in front of her. 

“ _ I’ve got one more place to check and I will come get you.”  _ Din sounded like he was walking, and Zakia took a sip. 

“I’ll be here.”

Zakia watched the droid as it wiped at the already-sparkling counter. “There’s really no jobs you hear about?”

The droid straightened. “I apologize. As I said, I cannot improve your situation.”

“That makes one of us, Tin Can.” 

Zakia spun on her heel, hand dangling over her blaster. Set up in the furthest corner booth, a dark-haired young man was spinning a credit chip between his fingers. Zakia narrowed her eyes and pulled the wrap away from her face. She tucked the fabric beneath her chin as she approached with her drink. 

“If you’re looking for work, have a seat, ma’am.” He smirked flirtatiously, and Zakia decided to play along. She sauntered to the table and slid in the opposite booth. 

“And what’s your name?” Zakia asked, making herself comfortable in the booth. The man had a smugness about him that she disliked instantly, and an immaturity which was almost tangible.

“Toro. Toro Calican.” Another smile played on his lips, and he dropped his feet from their resting place on the table. “Yours?”

A faux giggle escaped her lips, and Zakia pretended to hide behind her drink. “Zakia.”

“A lovely name for a beautiful woman.” Toro complimented. 

The urge to roll her eyes was strong, and Zakia barely managed to keep her expression under control. She was far from good at hiding annoyance. 

“Thank you. Toro’s a nice name for a man like you.” Zakia spoke in a high voice. She tapped her comlink twice to signal Mando, though she knew it would take a few minutes for him to arrive. “So, what’s the work you’re talking about?”

Toro reached into a pocket, tossing a bounty puck onto the table. It flicked on, and Zakia’s muscles tensed. She would recognize that face anywhere. “Fennec Shand.”

“You know her?” Toro inquired. 

Zakia tipped her drink back. “Unfortunately.”

“I picked up this Bounty Puck before I left the Mid Rim. I followed the tracking fob here. Now the positional data suggests she’s headed out beyond the Dune Sea. Should be an easy job.”

“Easy?” Zakia wondered aloud. “Who told you that?”

Toro rested his elbows on the table, leaning in. Zakia mimicked his position to try and elicit a response. She batted her eyelashes and bit down on her bottom lip. The man across from her watched her do so, cocking a single eyebrow. 

“I have my sources.” He smiled, reaching out a hand towards her. “Though I’d love to hear your take.”

A familiar clanking came from the doorway, and Zakia didn’t have to turn to know it was Din. The Mandalorian made his way to their table slowly, drawing Toro’s attention. The young man flicked off the puck, brown eyes annoyed due to the intrusion.

“Can I help you, Mando?” 

Zakia bit her lip to keep from laughing. Din stared Toro down, probably thinking the same things she had about Calican. His beskar flashed threateningly as he adjusted his blaster holster. 

“Unlikely.” The Mandalorian snarked. 

Flashing her teeth in Toro’s direction, Zakia looked up at the Mandalorian. “Relax, honey. This nice guy thinks he has some work for us.” 

Calican’s features pulled together in a frown, watching the beskar-clad warrior fold himself into the booth beside Zakia. She didn’t complain as he broke his normal pattern of behavior, spreading one gloved hand across her thigh. It was a clear show of dominance over the younger hunter, whom Din was clearly getting a rise out of .

“You know this guy?” Toro asked, dark eyes still lingering on Zakia. 

“He’s my partner. Right, Mando?” Zakia pressed her chest into Mando’s side. 

The affection wasn’t just out of character for the pair. It acted, in situations similar to the one they were in, as an intimidation tactic. A Mandalorian was intimidating enough, but one which allowed a woman to run with him chasing bounties meant to most that the woman was a threat as well. To a young bounty hunter such as Toro, their relationship served as a reminder about the difference in experience and understanding. 

“What’s this job that you’ve proposed?” Din nodded his helmet towards the puck, one arm slung over the back of their booth. 

Toro cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Shand’s last known positional data suggests she’s headed out beyond the Dune Sea. Should be an easy job.”

“Fennec Shand?” Mando question. He nudged the puck’s activator with a finger, and the assassin's picture sparked to life. Zakia could feel his gaze through the visor. 

“That’s the one.”

The Mandalorian’s actions were a physical display of Zakia’s opinion. “Well, good luck with that.”

The blonde winked at Toro, “I’m not trying to get killed today.”

Though Zakia was certain she could outshoot Shand back in her glory days, she was not confident in her ability any longer. She could hardly look through a scope for ten minutes, let alone ten hours or a day as she used to before Din and her began working together. Shand had continued acting as an assassin her whole life, while Zakia had worked more bounties. Not to mention that Zakia wasn’t keen on dragging her past up for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past couple of cycles.

“Wait, wait, wait, hey. I thought you needed work?” Calican swung his legs sideways out of the booth, determined not to let the pair exit. 

“How long with the Guild?” Din asked of Toro. Zakia raised her brow as she awaited an answer, hands coming to rest on her hips.

“Long enough.” Calican replied, though the darting of his eyes suggested otherwise. Zakia’s fingers moved to rub at her scar, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to throw. 

“Sure about that?” Zakia stepped back towards the table, one hand pointing in Toro’s direction. “Shand is one of the elites. I trained with her for many years before she broke off to work with different crime syndicates- namely, the Hutts. You’re a sweet kid, but take my word for it. If you go after her, you won’t be alive come sunrise.”

Zakia finished her previously abandoned drink, taking her leave from the tavern at once. She replaced her headwrap, squinting as the bright suns of Tatooine shone down onto her face. Not waiting for Mando to follow, Zakia made her way back to the repair bay, memories playing on loop in her brain. 

-

_ “You’ve gotta pull when you exhale. Not vice versa.”  _

_ Zakia stood above the dark-haired woman who lay prone on the ground. A rifle was pressed into her shoulder, rebound muted by the pads she wore.  _

_ “You don’t have to repeat yourself, sunshine. I know.” Fennec turned to look up at the blonde. “I already have a job lined up, why do you feel the need to drill me like this?” _

_ Zakia rolled her eyes. “You came to me because you were unfamiliar with the terrain. I’m just trying to help.” _

_ “Well I don’t need help with the basics, Zakia. If you’re not going to help me-” _

_ “Fennec, shut up. We’ve known each other forever and you’ve never acted like this. What is this job you’re so desperate to work?” Zakia asked, sitting cross legged on the ground.  _

_ “A bounty. A big one.” She relented, reloading the rifle. “You don’t need to worry about it.” _

_ “That makes me worry about it.” Zakia pressed. She adjusted her hair where it was tied up.”You’re not a Guild member.” _

_ “I don’t need to be.” Shand exhaled and pulled the trigger. An explosion of their tannerite target indicated she was successful.  _

_ Zakia furrowed her brow. “You didn’t talk to Niyo, did you?”  _

_ “Why do you care?” _

_ “He works for the Hutts!” Zakia exclaimed. “That’s not where you want to be, trust me!”  _

_ “You were trained to snipe by one of theirs. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zakia. I sought you out as a friend, don’t make me change that.” The threat was veiled, but still there.  _

_ “I didn’t work for them. Fennec, you can’t do this. The New Republic is closing in, and it’s only a matter of time before the syndicate is taken down. Then you’ll be wanted too.” Zakia tried to reason with her acquaintance, but the woman shook her head.  _

_ “You were always too soft, Zakia. You have the skills to be making more credits than any Guild member, yet you chose to stay there. I don’t understand.” Fennec sat up and folded the rifle stand.  _

_ “Guild work doesn’t put a price on my head.” Zakia returned. “And I don’t want to see one on yours.” _

_ Shand shouldered her rifle and gave a tight smile. “Well it’s a shame. We would make a great team.”  _

_ Zakia shook her head. “Not for them.” _

_ With her words hanging in the air, Fennec Shand walked away and left Zakia on the forest floor. _

  
  
  



	12. Part XII: Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the comments/kudos/etc. It makes me want to write- all day, everyday!

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, sweetie.”

Peli hushed the strange green infant after it toddled out of the Mandalorian’s ship. Its eyes were big and wet, and its tiny mouth opened wide with a cry. It had been only a few minutes since he made his appearance, and Peli didn’t mind. He was a sweet enough child, just scared to death. 

“Hey! Give him to me!” 

The mechanic spun on her heel, coming face-to-face with the blonde woman who had accompanied the Mandalorian off of the ship. Her arms were outstretched towards the baby, and the creature mimicked her gesture, pinching his little hands open and closed to indicate his desire.

“Calm down, missy! I wasn’t the one who left him alone in the ship and didn’t tell anyone! He woke up when I tried rotating the cylinders for the landing gear.” Peli set her hands on her hips, but settled at the frantic look in the woman’s eye. 

“I know. I just- we weren’t going to be gone long.” She stuttered, one hand coming up to cradle the back of the Child’s head as it nuzzled her shoulder. 

This woman was definetly someone who looked to be able to hold their own, but something about her reminded Peli of herself. She took a step back. “Well, he’s sweet. You have a lot to learn, but at least he’s good. Been cryin’ for you since he woke up.”

“Thanks for taking care of him. I’m Zakia, by the way.” The woman extended a hand in Peli’s direction, to which the mechanic shook firmly. 

“Peli Motto.” She returned. “I’ve started work on the fuel leak and the landing gear. There are a couple hold-ups we’ll have to address though.”

Zakia sat on a metal crate, reaching a hand out to the pit droids as they dared to come close to her. The Child grasped weakly at her shirt when she shifted, eyelids heavy with sleep. 

“I’d help out but unfortunately, I’m not mechanically inclined. I can fly the ship, but that’s just about where it ends. Mando takes care of everything else.” Zakia explained. Her voice lowered as the Child looked to be slipping off. 

Peli smiled at the interaction, wiping her hands on a rag and approaching the younger woman. “I can wait for him. There’s a nice couch in my office over there if you want to lay him down. And I can give you receipts now.” 

Zakia nodded, “That sounds great.”

Motto led the woman into her office, pulling a ratty blanket out of a long unused cupboard to cover the Child with. She noticed how slow Zakia walked, and how the blue of her eyes scanned every exit and every inch of the room they entered. It was the behaviour of someone who was all to familiar with fighting. Someone who was running from something.

“No one here but us.” Motto assured without making eye contact. “Mos Eisley’s population has been thinning out long as I can remember. Whatever you’re hiding from- you’re safe.”

“Have I gotten that bad at hiding things?” Zakia groaned as she flopped on the couch beside the Child. 

“It comes with motherhood.” Peli said. “Trust me.”

Zakia looked up. “You have children?”

“Had. I still know a thing or two.” Peli gestured to the sleeping child. “Though I’m pretty certain you didn’t make that.”

Zakia chuckled. “Surprisingly, no. He was kind of dropped in our laps. It’s a long-winded story.”

“Everyone has their secrets.” Motto told her, digging around on her cluttered desk. She had wrote up what parts they needed, but the office was an active disaster zone in which things disappeared easily. “Ah ha. Here’s-”

_ “Hey!”  _

Both women jumped, and the baby startled awake with a cry. They looked out the hazy window that separated the office from the bay and could clearly see the Mandalorian towering over the pit droids. 

_ “Where are they?”  _

Zakia sighed and scooped up the now-wailing child, following Peli Motto back out into the bay. The blonde rocked her adoptive son back and forth, shushing gently. 

“You woke it up!” Peli cried, pointing a wrench at the Mandalorian. For his own dignity, she pretended not to notice when his shoulders relaxed at the sight of his shipmates. 

“Zakia.” He tipped his head and looked to the younger woman, who only rolled her eyes. 

“I’m fine, Mando. Peli’s been nothing but kind. Relax.” Zakia stepped up, rocking the Child in front of her. It peered up at Mando, hands twisting Zakia’s scarf between claws. 

“Anyway.” Motto motioned to the disaster of a ship. “I started the repair on the fuel leak. I just had a couple setbacks I need to talk to you about.” 

Zakia’s brow furrowed as the Mandalorian walked up the jetway, following him into the ship. She watched him lift his bag- his  _ job  _ bag and held up a hand.

“What are you doing?”

Din paused. “This job. They gave it to Calican as a joke. He’s not fully Guild yet.”

“So what?” Zakia snapped. “Mando, Fennec can snipe you both from hundreds of meters away. Neither of you will make it.”

The Mandalorian turned, heading back to the weapons cabinet. Zakia shouldered the Child, allowing him to gnaw on her scarf, and watched her partner. 

“That’s why I got this.”

Zakia watched Mando withdraw a rifle from the locker she had never seen before. It was sleek and black, with a bandolier full of silver cartridges wrapped around it. She reached out to touch the could steel, running her fingers down it gingerly.

“It’s the newest model. Full thermal and night vision, outfitted to adjust even with flash charges. Accurate up to four thousand meters. Outfitted for regular or disruptor cartridges. A new take on the Imperial E-5s.” Mando laid down the statistics, and Zakia set the Child down to toddle around their feet. 

“Where’d you get this?” Zakia took the rifle from him and held the scope to her eye. 

“The Underworld guy you mentioned? Turns out it’s not just under-the-table work he offers.” Din reached down and pulled her wrist straight. He detached a small piece of metal from his belt and wrapped it around her wrist until it beeped to ensure its security. “That syncs to the rifle and your comlink.”

Zakia chewed on the inside of her cheek. “You want me to help you capture Fennec.”

“The kid is giving us all the credits. Her bounty is imposed by the New Republic. Fifteen thousand if we can catch her. I think we’d be able to with flash charges and speeder bikes, but having you would make me feel better.” He shifted. “I know you and Shand are friends, and that lately-”

“She lost my loyalty when she went to work with the Hutts. Called me a hypocrite for not supporting her because an ex-Hutt smuggler taught me how to shoot.” Zakia pursed her lips and glanced down at the Child. “I don’t have, or  _ want  _ anything to do with Fennec anymore. Turning her in doesn’t bother me in the least.”

“Good. Then you’ll come.” Mando picked up the Child and walked down the hatch to where Peli stood. Zakia stared after him, reining in the frustration. 

Peli was already after Mando, telling him about the extra problems. “...But I figured you were good for the money, since you have extra mouths to feed.”

Zakia padded down the ramp after snagging her black jacket out of their quarters. Din was handing the Child off to Peli, heading for the hangar door. 

“ _ Good, then you’ll come.”  _ Zakia mocked Din before thanking Peli sincerely for watching the Child. She stomped childishly across the dirt to the door. “Stupid men.”

She exited the hangar with rifle on her shoulder and jacket in hand. Toro was waiting outside, two speeder bikes hovering just beyond the overhang of the roof. The cocky young man leaned up against one, arms crossed. Peli was watching rather disapprovingly, and Zakia shrugged. 

“Men. Am I right?” The blonde stroked one of the baby’s long ears, eliciting a chuckle from the mechanic

“And the lady as well. Consider me honored.” Calican drawled. 

Zakia rolled her eyes, walking to the bike Mando had been inspecting and tossing her jacket onto the back. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

As the men turned to mount the bikes, Zakia put her hand against Mando’s stomach and pushed him back. The Mandalorian tilted his head at her in a silent question Zakia didn’t need to be very intelligent to read. She threw a leg over the front of the bike, boots coming to rest on the accelerators.

“If I’m getting dragged into this, I’m driving.”

* * *

They rode until Zakia spotted a pair of Bantha on the horizon. Their riders dismounted, the beasts idly trod about in the sand. Tusken Raiders could be vicious when provoked, and she knew better than to ride into their territory unannounced.

“Tusken Raiders.” Calican concluded as he looked through a shiny set of binocs. “I heard the locals talking about this filth.”

Zakia looked over her shoulder at Mando, who still had one arm firm around her waist. “Tuskens think they’re the locals. Everyone else is just trespassing.”

Toro scoffed at Din’s comment. “Well, whatever they call themselves, they best keep their distance.”

Zakia smirked as two Tusken Raiders shuffled from behind a nearby dune, closing in on Calican. She wasn’t sure they understood his words, but they knew who the threat was. They glided silently across the sand, weapons pointing at Toro.

“Yeah?” Zakia chuckled. “Why don’t you tell them yourself?”

Toro turned to face the Raiders, hand reaching towards his blaster. Mando untangled himself from Zakia and hauled his stiff body off the bike. Though they were notably xenophobic towards outsiders, Mandalorians and Tuskens had a strange history, of which Din had never really explained to her. All she knew was that her Mandalorian was fluent in their language, and it had come in handy frequently in their hunts.

“Relax.” 

Zakia watched over the sandy wasteland as Mando negotiated with the Tuskens. Her eyes lingered on a ridge of red rock far in the distance. If she was hiding in the wastelands of Tatooine, that’s where it would be, and she imagined that Fennec would have the same idea. At their angle, it would be impossible to approach without being picked off the bikes. Zakia tapped her foot against the bike’s sidebar, and idea forming in the back of her head. She looked between the Sandpeople and their Bantha.

“Mando?” 

He turned away from the odd-looking people, sending a placating gesture in their direction that Zakia assumed meant ‘hold on’. “What’s wrong?”

Zakia ran her tongue across her canines, nodding to the ridge where it peaked over the dunes. “See that ridge? If it were just me and my rifle on the run, I’d be up there. It’s the highest ground.”

The Mandalorian set his hands on his hips. “We were planning on heading in that direction.”

“You won’t make it within two thousand meters of her. And once we get across these next couple hills, we’ll be ripe for the picking.” Zakia looked towards the Sandpeople and acknowledged them with a nod. 

“Unless?” 

Zakia stood from the bike, adjusting her new rifle. “See if our friends here will take me to the far end of the ridge where it picks up. Shand probably bartered her way out here as well, and I doubt she’s concerned with them. If they can get me to the high ground, I can pin her down”

The Mandalorian hesitated for a moment. “You’re sure about this?” 

“More than sure.” Zakia rolled her neck. “Besides, all the Tuskens will want is something shiny. And I’m a woman. You know they hold their own women in high regard.”

Din sighed, but his head dipped. “Alright. Get your stuff and come here.”

Zakia did as he said, staying near his side as they approached the Tuskens. The Mandalorian signed to Zakia and then Calican, communicating their plan. The two Raiders looked between each other- they had probably never received such a strange request. They signed back, motioning at Calican and then at Zakia. 

“Let me see the binocs.” Mando said to Toro, “and one of your blasters, Zak.”

The blonde raised a brow, but didn’t argue. “You better buy me a new one.”

Both items were tossed to the Tuskens. Toro complained aloud, but neither of the older hunters paid him any mind. One of the Raiders motioned to Zakia, beckoning her towards them. Din left Calican with the speeders and his confusion.

“Stay with the bikes. I’ll be back.” Mando said over his shoulder. 

Zakia kept pace a few steps behind the Tuskens, trying to avoid staring at the strange masks and armor they wore. Din caught up to them as they neared the Banthas. The Sandpeople shuffled through their packs stuffed on the animals as Din caught Zakia by the shoulders. 

“They’re going to disguise you as an  _ Uli-ah _ . _ ”  _ Din informed her. 

Zakia’s jaw dropped. “As a child?” 

“It would be strange for two to share a Bantha without good reason. But they agreed to take you to the ridge. These two seem hospitable enough, and shouldn’t bother you at all.” Mando explained. He reached a hand out to tap the comlink under Zakia’s headwrap to make sure it was on. He then lifted the small bracer she wore, typing in a short code to sync it all together. 

“Thanks.” Zakia pressed her palm to his helmet and smiled with pursed lips. “I’d stay off the link in case she has something that can pick up the frequency. I don’t want my cover blown.”

Din gave her a half-hearted salute. “Yes ma’am.”

“Be careful, Din.” Zakia warned as the Tuskens approached them, hands reaching towards her.

“I will.” Mando paused, and Zakia could hear the smile in his voice. “They think we’re married, so act sad if I get shot.”

A guffaw broke out of Zakia’s mouth at the quip. “You’re ridiculous.”

Mando gave her one last squeeze on the hip before turning away. “So you’ve said.”

* * *

Riding a Bantha had not been high up on Zakia’s to-do list, and her mind had not changed since the Raiders boosted her onto one. The creatures, quite frankly, scared her to death. Their riders weren’t much better. 

The two Tuskens had shown her canvas-colored robes that she was to put over her own clothes, and one produced a mask to conceal her face. The same one then mounted his Bantha, and helped Zakia on behind him. She fisted her hands into the strange, hairy beast and stayed there until daylight had slipped away. 

They reached the ridge at dusk, and the two Sandpeople paused. They turned to look at their passenger, gesticulating up towards the ridge. Zakia held up one hand, hoping they would recognize it as a sign to wait, and pulled the rifle from her shoulder. She stayed low, but brought the lens to her eye. Zakia clicked the scope until the darkness was highlighted with thermal vision, and stood shakily on the Bantha’s back.

“Come on.” Zakia murmured. She scanned across the ridge slowly, with no indication of life. Praying silently that she hadn’t been wrong about Shand’s hiding spot, Zakia upped the magnification until her bracer beeped at its maximum.

“Damn it!” She growled. About to give up and radio Din, her bracer made a strange noise. 

_ ‘Heat signature detected. Five thousand yards.’  _

Zakia’s heart skipped a beat. It was barely a speck, but a red and orange spot stood out from the blue of the desert ground. She put the weapon down and clambered to sit on the Bantha. Zakia strapped her gun back onto her shoulder and drew in a breath before catching the attention of her escorts. She motioned in the correct direction and the Tuskens took her about four thousand meters, keeping a large rock formation between her and what she assumed was Fennec. 

After scrambling from the Bantha’s back, Zakia removed the robes she had been given and returned them to the Tuskens. She bowed deeply to them, but they simply tugged their steed’s reins and trodded off. Zakia looked up at the rocks, making sure the rifle was tight to her shoulder. She found a foothold and began hauling herself up. The structure was probably fifteen or twenty meters high, and it took Zakia a few minutes to get close to the peak. 

Hand hovering just below the top, a shot rang out, followed by an incredibly bright flash. Zakia heard it clearly, scrambling the rest of the way to the top. She found purchase on the red rocks, quickly setting up her rifle as another shot broke through the silence. Zakia spotted the muzzle flash far in the distance, and turned her scope towards the general area it had come from. Flash charges exploded in the expanse of sandy dunes but, true to Mando’s words, her scope compensated for the light. Much to her relief, Zakia was elevated far above the heat signature that she hoped was Fennec.

Zakia turned from the sniper out over the desert. She could see one form that looked suspiciously similar to Mando climbing off the ground, but Calican was missing. A wave of panic washed over her, and she turned back to the ridge. This time there were two figures- one prone and one pointing a blaster from behind. So Calican had made it to the ridge. 

She watched their blob-shaped figures move through the scope, engaged in a hand-to-hand fight. Zakia switched to night vision as opposed to thermal, then able to discern who was who. 

“Shand.” Zakia let the fight go on a few moments, impressed that Calican was holding his own as long as he had. Once Fennec began to get the upper hand though, it was time for an intervention. 

Zakia dialed in close, placing her crosshairs on Shand’s right leg. A bounty for the New Republic would bring in more money alive than dead. It was a low blow to wound an old friend, and a shot from that distance would probably disable the woman forever, but Zakia couldn’t find it in her to feel bad. Fennec had chosen this life, and everything that came with it. Not to mention that she wouldn’t need a full range of motion in a New Republic cell.

_ BANG. _

The shot sliced through the night, shattering the relative silence that had stretched over the desert. Zakia grimaced as her face began to cramp from looking through the scope, but forced herself to stay and watch Fennec fall. The woman clutched at her now-useless extremity, and Zakia was able to see the third figure- Mando- join Calican on the ridge. The Mandalorian cuffed Shand, waving a hand in Zakia’s direction. 

_ “Where are you? I’ll send Toro with a bike.”  _ Din’s voice only soothed her nerves a little.

Zakia rattled off her general coordinates, climbing down from the rocks as her shot played over and over in her head. It was only a few minutes later when Calican arrived, and Zakia wordlessly climbed onto the bike behind him. 

“Good shot.” The young man said. “Took her right down. Surprised the hell out of both of us.”

“Thanks.”

Zakia dismounted the bike as soon as it came to a halt, just barely catching the reflection of Mando’s armor in the moonlight. She braced herself for what she knew would not be a happy reunion, but trekked through the sand to stand beside the Mandalorian. 

Fennec, apart from aging just as Zakia, looked much the same as the day she’d declared her plans for employment with the Hutts. Her dark hair was tied back into a braid, though pieces escaped near her face. Din must have supplied her with bandaging. Her right calf was covered in a bacta patch and a tourniquet was tied just below her knee. Though she was obviously in pain and full of rage, Fennec leveled her gaze on Zakia. 

“Figures someone like you wouldn’t have the guts to kill me.”

Zakia sighed. “Don’t try to be the tough guy, Fennec. You knew everything would end like this one day.”

“Did you think you’d end up a traitor?” Fennec shot back. 

“Who have I betrayed? I told you to come to the Guild- you didn’t listen. All of  _ this  _ is on you.” Zakia turned away, moving towards the bikes and pulling the rifle from her shoulder. Din followed, taking the rifle from her and laying it over his own shoulder. 

“You’re alright?” 

Zakia nodded, making sure they were out of earshot. “Fine.” 

“Good. I’m going to get a dewback. We saw one wandering around on our way here. You can come with me or stay with the kid and Shand. It’s up to you.” Din explained.

“Well that’s not a hard choice. Where is it?” Zakia asked. 

Din nodded. “Straight out from the bikes. It’ll probably take us a few hours.”

The pair drifted back towards where Shand sat against a rock and Calican was propped up on a bike. Din moved towards Toro, while Zakia stepped forward to kneel in front of Shand. The dark-haired woman only smirked, fighting through the pain of her wounded arm. 

“I bet that wound makes for hard shooting.” Fennec nodded at Zakia’s scar. “Looks deep.”

“Right. And I’m sure that one’s going to feel great.” Zakia motioned to Fennec’s leg where it was bent awkwardly in front of her and dripping blood onto the sand.

“I always knew you were a coward.” Fennec looked to where the Mandalorian stood. “Never pegged you as one to shack up with a Mandalorian, though.”

Zakia pinched her lips together. “What makes you think we’re not just working together for the money?”

Fennec chuckled, but broke off with a wince when she tried to readjust. “I could always read you like a book, Kia.” 

Zakia raised her brows and slapped her hands against her thighs before standing. “Yeah, well. It’s a shame this story turned out the way it did.”

  
  



	13. Part XIII: Betrayed

Toro Calican decided he was far happier working on his own. He left Fennec Shand dead in the sand, and raced back towards Mos Eisley on a speeder bike. If what Shand said was true, he was about to become a very important man. 

-

_“A Mandalorian shot up the Guild on Nevarro. Took some high value target and went rogue.”_

_Shand reclined back against the rock, delicately extending her wounded leg._

_“That Mandalorian?” Toro asked, pointing vaguely with his blaster._

_Shand shrugged. “Like I said, you don’t see many. You bring the Guild that traitor, and they’ll welcome you with open arms. Your name will be legendary.”_

_Toro hesitated. It was a tempting offer, but another obstacle stood in his way if the assassin wasn’t lying. “What about the woman?”_

_Fennec motioned to her injured leg. “She’s a good shot. I’m not too proud to admit she is one of the best. At least, she used to be. But I’ve heard murmurs from some Imperial sources about a rogue sniper.”_

_Calican tilted his head. “Imperial?”_

_“Quite a few years ago, I used to be fairly well-acquainted with Zakia. She was versed in different terrains than I was, and we learned from each other. It disappointed me that she wasted her talent with the Guild- my employers paid much better.” Fennec’s calculating eyes watched the area where the Mandalorian and Zakia had vanished into the distance. “But I heard later that a private sniper had eliminated a clan of Imperials from a hideout on Naboo. Six shots, six dead. Eight hundred yards, through thick woods.”_

_“What’s this have to do with anything?” Calican grew impatient, climbing from the bike._

_“Forests were Zakia’s speciality. The Imperials- what’s left of them- have been searching for the culprit ever since. It’s hard to broadcast when your beliefs are outlawed, but I have my sources. I’m sure you could find a warlord somewhere who’d pay you handsomely for her capture. If not, then I’m sure she was part of the Mandalorian’s escape on Nevarro. The Guild would be thankful for her return.” Shand smiled. “I can benefit you more than the Mandalorian ever will.”_

_Toro nodded, using a finger to switch the safety off his blaster. “You’re completely right.”_

* * *

Zakia leapt from the dewback when her and Mando made it back to the ridge. Toro was nowhere to be found, the only sign of them ever being there was Fennec’s body folded in on itself in the sand. The blonde stepped forward with careful steps, tenderly rolling Shand over. A blaster wound marred the center of her abdomen, and the sand below her body was soaked in congealed blood. She was still cuffed, indicating there had not been a struggle of any sort. Zakia bit her lip and stood, shuffling back to Mando. 

“She’s gone.”

Din lifted her onto the dewback behind him when she approached, hand lingering on her longer than necessary. “Are you okay?”

Zakia brushed him off. “Stop. I’m tired of crying, just- we have bigger things to worry about now. If Toro killed her and left, it was because of something she told him.”

“You think she knew about Nevarro and sold us out?” Din nudged the dewback in the direction of Mos Eisley. 

“Probably. Calican just wants his name to be recognized, and it would be a higher honor to bring in a Guild traitor than a Republic bounty. Plus, I think he’s dumb enough to kill her and not bring you both in.” Zakia reasoned, hands gripping the edges of Mando’s armor to keep steady on the animal. 

“He’s dumb enough to come after me when you’re still around?” Din wondered. 

Zakia chewed on her cheek, thinking back to her and Karga’s conversation on Nevarro before the shootout. 

_‘Not that I was told. Sounded much more like they were interested in your skill set.’_

“Well, it turns out that, uh, you might not be the only one being hunted.” Zakia stammered. She hadn’t brought up the whole ‘the-Imperials-want-me’ conversation to the Mandalorian. She figured it would be better left unsaid. If Din knew about their desire to have her, he would be ridiculously protective and unreasonable. 

“What are you talking about?”

Dropping her forehead to rest between Mando’s shoulder blades, she explained what had taken place on Nevarro. Zakia could feel the tension building beneath his armor, and sat straight up when she was finished. 

“You didn’t think it prudent to tell me any of this?” Din asked. His tone was measured, but Zakia knew he was furious. 

“I knew that if I told you, you would be ridiculously overprotective. The Imperials don’t even have a name. And it happened a long time ago. Before I started working with you full-time.” Zakia was exhausted, physically and mentally. 

“Have you ever considered I’m protective because I care?” 

Zakia sighed. “I just don’t want to fight anymore.”

-

They rode until sunfall, eventually reaching the outskirts of the spaceport. Both parties were silent the whole time, neither finding any common ground to speak on. The dewback padded all the way to the hangar door before it stopped. Mando dismounted, leaving Zakia to slide clumsily off the monster’s back. A single speeder bike was parked in front of the hangar door, and Din pulled a blaster before walking into the bay quietly. Zakia drew her remaining gun and followed, creeping along the interior wall of the entryway. When they emerged into the main bay, Peli’s tools were scattered about but the mechanic was nowhere to be found.

A small shape startled both of them, and Zakia watched the DUM droid skitter into Motto’s office and cower beneath the desk. Zakia could only pray that their new friend wasn’t in the same condition as Shand. 

“Took you long enough.” Calican’s voice came from the Crest’s open hatch, and both hunters moved to point their guns towards the source of the noise.

It was Peli who was visible first, hands held up in surrender as Calican nudged her down the ramp. As the man stepped into the light, Zakia’s stomach jumped into her throat. The Child was held nonchalantly in his other hand. She tightened her grip on the blaster, eyes drilling into Calican’s body. 

She was going to kill him. Zakia knew she had a bad feeling about the boy when she met him, and it was all coming around to bite her.

“Looks like I’m callin’ the shots now.” 

Zakia’s eye twitched while Din kept his blaster trained on Toro’s head. 

“Drop your guns and raise ‘em.” Calican commanded. He paused on the ramp, refusing to move any further until both the Mandalorian and Zakia were unarmed.

“You’re going to die for this.” Zakia stared straight into the wannabe’s eyes as she tossed her blaster to the ground. Toro may have had control, but Zakia would never go down without a fight. She was able to grasp a sliver of satisfaction when Toro visibly flinched at her careless actions.

About to speak towards the moron before them, a flash of silver and gold caught Zakia’s eye. In Din’s clasped hands, hidden behind his helmet, was a flash charge. Her mouth quirked at the edges. If Calican was more experienced, he would have paid attention to that sort of thing. Lucky for them, he was anything but. 

“Shut up.” 

Toro told Peli to cuff them both, shoving her down the hatch as the mechanic let out a disgruntled huff. His eyes moved back to the pair of hunters. 

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando.” He started, leveling his blaster at Zakia this time. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape.”

The blonde internally grimaced as Toro swept the gun from the Child back to her. Calican was still talking when Peli whispered something Zakia didn’t catch behind the Mandalorian’s helmet, but it was safe to assume she’d found the charge. 

“Not to mention, your ‘partner’ is being tracked by Imps.” Calican tipped his head and shrugged as if it were a casual conversation. “Bringing the two of you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild. I’ll be legendary.” 

Zakia caught Mando’s hand beginning to move out of her peripheral, and ducked just as the explosion of light was set free in the bay. She rolled to the side and pulled her knife, whipping it by the blade in the direction of Calican’s neck. A shot rang out at almost the exact same time. Peli managed to make it to Zakia’s side, hand landing gently on the younger woman’s shoulder. 

“Are you alright? Where’s the baby?” 

All three looked around at the question, and Zakia rushed towards the ship. She ignored Toro’s motionless body, unphased by the knife protruding from his neck. There was as soft shuffling as she called out for the kid, and all three adults could have got whiplash for how fast they turned. 

The Child came tumbling out from behind a stack of crates, ears piqued at Zakia’s voice and the soft clank of Mando’s armor. It lifted its arms up in the universal ‘hold me’ gesture, and Zakia didn’t hesitate to comply. He cooed softly, tugging at the loose pieces of her headwrap. 

“Shhh, shh. I’m sorry, I know it was loud.” 

The Mandalorian made his way to her slowly, taking a long moment to rest his hand on her lower back. Zakia rotated so she could see his visor, smiling softly at his hidden face. Peli was watching the exchange with a smirk, arms crossed. The DUM droids began slowly trudging from her office as their processors deemed the threat neutralized. 

“Don’t get comfortable.” Din murmured to Zakia, “We’re leaving.”

Zakia acknowledged his warning with a nod and crossed the disaster of a workplace to stand with Peli. 

“Look at you.” Motto playfully picked at the baby’s ear before her eyes landed on Zakia. “Both of you.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. Everything to do with that piece of shit is out fault.” Zakia alluded to Calican, but Motto waved her off. 

“He’s a pleasure.” The mechanic’s face hardened as the Mandalorian approached, leaving Zakia giggling at their dynamic. The silent-and-macho man facade was fixed back into place, in turn ruffling Peli’s feathers. “I take it you didn’t get paid?”

Din withdrew a wallet with far more credits in it than Zakia cared to count. He emptied the contents into Peli’s hands. “That cover us?”

Looking from him to Zakia, she nodded. “Yeah. This’ll cover you.”

Zakia nudged Din with her elbow, motioning subtly to Peli Motto. The Mandalorian grumbled under his mask, but tipped his head to the older woman. “Thank you.”

After his companion gave him a nod of approval, he swept the Child from her arms and hustled up the ramp. Zakia followed, twisting around to wave. “Sorry, that’s how he shows affection. But you really do have our gratitude. No matter how Mando acts.”

Motto only winked. “Make sure he takes care of you.”

“He always does.”

* * *

Hours of space-travel flew by after they departed from Mos Eisley.

Zakia sat reclined in the pilot’s chair, feet kicked up on the console. The Child was occupied on the floor of the cabin, chasing the small ball from the lever which he’d claimed as his own. It rolled with the ship’s cadence, eliciting a fit of giggles from the Child whenever he came close to catching it. The mercenary chaperoning him swiped through pertinent news articles about Imperial remnants on Din’s beat-up holopad. Zakia was idly searching for any evidence that could link her to the assasination she had been a part of so many years prior. The Mandalorian was below deck, eating and showering before they turned in for the night. If it even was nighttime. 

Their sleeping schedule was so sporadic and disorganized that Zakia wasn’t entirely sure when she was supposed to take time for her beauty sleep. Even the Child’s natural circadian rhythm couldn’t be used as a guide; the kid napped so much that Zakia expected him to be bouncing off the ship’s walls at all times. Despite the thoughts bouncing around in her head, he preserved his chipper attitude most of the time. Apart from when he was hungry, their charge was not a difficult one.

“Eeek!” 

Zakia raised a brow, laughing aloud as the Child tumbled into her jacket where it lay crumpled on the floor. He held the silver sphere triumphantly in one hand, waddling over to Zakia to display it. 

“Good job, baby.” She praised. It felt wrong to call the Child something so objective, but she had no other indicators to go on for a name. Nor did it feel right to give him one. 

The little green womp rat giggled, keeping his full attention on her as he tossed the ball towards the back of the cabin. Its little legs made to chase, but the door slid open suddenly and the ball disappeared. A loud ‘CLANK’ resounded shortly after, and Zakia dropped her feet to the floor so she could see. The Child scrambled to sit on her knees, startled by the door’s sudden movement.

The Mandalorian emerged from below deck, tiny ball in one hand and the other steadying his body on the ladder. Zakia chuffed at the realization that the ball had indeed made contact with his helmet. 

“You’re throwing things at me now?” Din pulled himself the rest of the way into the cockpit, bare of all armor except the helmet. He wore a dark tunic and pants, boots on but not buckled. 

“Not me, the kid. He’s got good aim.” Zakia joked. The Child babbled at her, grabbing a fistful of curls and pinching it between his fingers. However, his eyes never left the Mandalorian. After deciding Zakia’s har was uninteresting as ever, his arms extended towards Din. “And apparently, tired of me.”

Still a bit skittish when it came to affection outside their relationship, Din was slow to acquiesce the Child’s supplication. Once it was done, the beast snuggled happily against his chest, obviously appreciating the lack of armor and easy access to body heat. 

“Did you find anything?” He indicated to the discarded holopad on the console. 

“Nothing. It was so long ago. Karga had to remind me about it when he first told me the Imperials were interested.” Zakia shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense they would be searching for this long. There’s plenty of others out there who would work for the right price. Hell, they could’ve had Fennec working for them in the blink of an eye.”

Din readjusted the Child so he rested in the crook of his arm, settling into the co-pilot’s seat. “I thought the same. But Imperial plans don’t often fit together quite right.”

“Like I said. It doesn’t add up to me.” Zakia picked up the holopad and held it for Din to see. 

A single blue hologram popped up, gleaming off Mando’s helmet. The headline was in white, reading _‘Six Dead in Apparent Assasination on Naboo’._

“That’s ambiguous.” Din swiped through the projected pages. “This is it?”

Zakia nodded. “All that I could find.”

“I just wish you would have told me sooner.” 

“I know I should have. But after the shootout and the kid, it was honestly the last thing on my mind. We have people on our ass all the time. Why should it have made a difference?” Zakia took the holopad and replaced it on the dash, standing from her seat so she could settle herself onto Mando’s free knee. 

His right side was occupied by the Child, but his left was open. She sat on his thigh and leaned back into his firm body. Din tipped his chin up to accommodate her head and shifted the kid around until it was in her arms and he could maneuver them both as one. 

“No, you’re right.” He conceded, warmth rushing through him as Zakia pulled her legs up over both of his and curled close. “It was a long time ago. If it was serious, they’d have found you already.”

Zakia’s head bobbed against his chin as she silently agreed. Her nose pressed into his tunic, she inhaled deeply. “You smell good, Din.”

“I tried this new thing called soap” He quipped. 

“Thank the Maker, I knew I was starting to smell something.” 

They remained in silence for a stretch, content to be close. The Child was still, sleeping peacefully on Zakia’s lap. The blonde was starting to fade as well, her head growing heavier on Mando’s armor-less shoulder. He hummed an off-key version of a popular tune, and Zakia was losing the battle with sleep very quickly as his chest rumbled beneath her ear.

“You ever think about what we would do if it was this quiet all the time?” She said softly, propping her cheek on Mando’s shoulder. Her eyes steadied on his viewfinder where she imagined his eyes to be.

“More than you think, I’d wager.” Din answered. His arms wrapped around her knees and waist, long fingers tracing aimless doodles into her skin. “One day.”

Zakia tucked her chin back into his chest contentedly. “You’d be bored out of your helmet, Tin can.”

His chest moved up as he chuckled. “I don’t know. Sitting around sipping spotchka could make for a good retirement plan.”

“I know you, Din. And, I’d like to think I know you pretty well. You would be content to sit for approximately two days before itching to get back at it.” Zakia told him, fingers scratching over the material covering his chest. Her hand brushed gently over the Child’s head, and the creature smiled joyfully in its slumber.

“Well, it’s going to be pretty hard to get back at it. You know, with the Guild hunting me and everything.” 

Zaki felt the happiness slowly begin to leak from their conversation. “As long as they’re coming after us while we’re together, no one will get close. I have a shiny new rifle to keep them back.”

Din smiled beneath the helmet. “Glad to know you still have my back.”

“You owe me another blaster though.” Zakia tapped at her empty holster. “I was going to try and snag mine back from the Tusken, but those guys scare me too much.”

A soft trill from the dash drew them out of idle chit-chat, the telecom unit blinking with a new message. Zakia gently set the Child back in Din’s lap, standing to stretch her legs. “I’ll get it.”

She typed her code into the communications screen, and a blue hologram popped up. At first there was no one in the picture, only a voice. 

_“Mando! I hope this gets through, I wasn’t sure you still had the same ship.”_ A figure wandered into the frame then, and Zakia groaned. She slapped the pause button, turning to the Mandalorian. 

“It’s Ran Malk.” 

Din hauled his body from the chair, holding the Child with ease. “Been a long time since we’ve heard from him.”

Zakia smiled. “I worked that job the morning after you took me to bed with you for the first time.”

“Did you? Didn’t recall.” Din teased, and Zakia beat on his arm. 

“Don’t be a jerk. What do you think he wants?” She wondered, hands hovering above the controls.

“Let’s find out.”

Din knocked her fingers away, pressing down on the resume button himself. 

_“But, I heard you were still alive and decided you’d be the best person to help me out.”_ Ranzar had gained weight since Zakia had last had the pleasure to see him, but he was still the same man as all those years ago. Back then he had been conniving and selfish, and something told Zakia he probably had not had a grand metamorphosis.

“ _I need help busting a buddy out. I’ll leave the you coordinates later. But the money’s here and the pay is good. Even better if you bring the blonde that was with you last time. We could use her skills on this job.”_

Zakia cringed, wrinkling her nose at Mando. “Ew. Is he talking about my actual skills or my boobs?”

“Knowing Ran? Both.”

The call ended with coordinates projected on the display, and Mando switched off the telecom’s hologram unit. 

“Classy as ever.” Zakia remarked. “What do you think?”

Din swayed gently as the Child began to fuss in his hold. “Ran was never too smart on his own. I think it might be easy money very quickly.”

Zakia propped herself against the pilot’s chair. “I’ll do whatever you feel is necessary to keep us flying.”

He watched her body language for any outwards hostility, but he was clear. “Might as well. It’s not much travel from here.”

“Alright.” Zakia concurred. “You think that Twi’lek still runs with him? ‘Cause if so, please just point the blaster at me now.”


	14. Part XIV: The Job

"Stay close.”

Din’s hand was a comforting warmth on Zakia’s lower back as he ushered her into the familiar landing bay. The Child was tucked into his bunk, fast asleep for what would normally be the night. 

The hustle and bustle of the hangar was the same as it was years ago, as were the uncomfortable stares that came with it. The bay was full of men who were deprived of outside attention, and her presence had drawn the same attention last time. People from all directions stared at the Mandalorian and his partner. Some gazes were curious, and others were perverse sneers. Zakia didn’t allow their looks to phase her, but she stayed close enough to Din that her arm brushed his side with each step. 

“Mando?” 

Both parties halted, and a stocky figure bustled into their line of sight. Ranzar Malk looked older than both hunters combined- a long gray beard and scraggly gray hair that stuck out in all directions. Zakia ground her teeth as he leered at her and Din. 

“Is that you under that bucket?” Ran chuckled, eyes turning to Zakia. “And the lady. What a pleasure to have you back.”

Zakia gave him a fake smile, and silently thanked her partner when he took the lead. He edged himself in front of her ever so slightly and reached out to shake Ran’s outstretched hand. 

“Ran.” Din greeted. The gray-haired man seemed to take notice of Mando’s domineering gesture, and backed off before speaking. 

“I didn’t really know if I’d ever see you in these parts again. It’s good to see you.” He told them, laying a hand on Mando’s shoulder. Zakia stayed near his other side, though stuck her head forward so she could hear Ran’s voice. “You know, to be honest, I was a little surprised when you replied to my message. ‘Cause I hear things.”

Zakia tensed, hand hovering over her single blaster. Mando’s came to covertly rest his own over it, reassuring her without words. She grit her teeth, bracing herself for a fight. It wouldn't be out of character for Ran to turn them over for the reward money.

“Like, maybe things between you and the Guild aren’t workin’ out.” Ran crossed his arms and stood as if he was waiting for an explanation. 

Zakia tapped an impatient boot on the floor. “We’ll be fine.”

Ranzar’s soulless gaze traveled to her, and Zakia didn’t miss the way his eyes took in her whole body. “If the lady says so, you know the policy. No questions. And you, you’re welcome back here anytime.”

Zakia immediately got the sense they were  _ not  _ welcome, and blew a long breath out her nose. Ran led them across the hangar and up the stairs of a catwalk. There were hundreds of projects scattered about, and Zakia was certain she was going to have welder’s flash from the number of men working to assemble and disassemble ships.

“So what’s the job?” Mando asked as they transversed the walkway. Zakia kept a nervous eye on the Crest, making sure no one neared the ship where the Child slept. 

“Yeah, one of our associates ran afoul of some competitors and got himself caught. So I’m puttin’ together a crew to spring him. It’s a five person job.” Ran glanced at Zakia. “Could be six. But I got four. All I need is the ride, and you brought it.” 

Zakia was thankful that Mando seemed to read her mind. “Ship wasn’t part of the deal.” 

“Well the Crest is the only reason I let you back in here.” Malk snarked as Mando’s helmet swiveled in his direction. “What’s the look?”

Once again, the blonde found herself reaching for her blaster as Ran got close to Mando’s helmet. She stood her ground beside the Mandalorian, eyebrow raising defiantly as Ran turned his gaze to her. 

“Is that gratitude?” The man sniggered at his own joke, breath blowing by Zakia’s cheek. “Uh-huh. I think it is.”

Ran walked ahead, leaving the two mercenaries alone for a moment. Zakia leaned in close. “I don’t like this.”

“You think I do?” Din snapped back. He sighed as soon as the words were out. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just get this done and get out.” Zakia sniffed and wiped the grimy air away from her nose as they continued on behind Malk. 

They returned to the floor of the hangar, cutting in and out of stacks of crates until Zakia could see a man dressed in head-to-toe tactical gear. Ran’s lazy stride brought them close to him, calling out when the mechanical sounds died out behind them. “Hey, Mayfield.”

“Yeah?” Mayfield was tall and bald, with cold eyes and an obnoxious number of blasters strapped to him. Zakia was reminded of the wannabe snipers she had run across in her prime. 

“This is Mando, the guy I was tellin’ you about.” Ran held out a hand in their direction, and Mayfield turned with a cocky grin. “We used to do jobs way back when.”

“This is the guy?” Mayfield asked. His eyes landed on Zakia shortly after, and a silent question was posed. 

Ran cut in before Mayfield was able to put his inquiry into words. “Yeah, we were all young, tryin’ to make a name for ourselves. But runnin’ with a Mandalorian, that was… That brought us some reputation.” 

Mayfield scratched at his stubbly beard, lifting a finger in Zakia’s direction. “Who’s this?” 

“My partner.” Din monotoned. Zakia kept her glacial eyes on Mayfield, and her mouth shut. She didn’t feel inclined to speak to people she didn’t trust. 

“Oh yeah? So what’d you two get out of it, travelin’ with him?” Mayfield asked, nodding towards Ran. 

“Well, she was only around the last time I saw him. Guess the wedding was more important.” Ran laughed at his own joke, and Mayfield narrowed his eyes. “But I asked him that one time. You remember what you said, Mando?” 

The Mandalorian was silent. 

“Target practice.” Ran cackled, and Mayfield feigned shock, exaggeratedly throwing his hands in the air. “We did some crazy stuff, didn’t we?”

“That was a long time ago.” Din’s voice was guarded. Careful. 

He didn’t like this Mayfield character anymore than Zakia. It seemed that everybody at Ran’s command stunk of dishonesty. Though if honesty was the best policy, Zakia couldn’t say her and Mando were any different. Technically, were indeed on the run. 

“Well, I don’t go out anymore, you understand? So, uh, Mayfield, he’s gonna run point on this job. If he says it, it’s like it’s coming from me. You good with that?” 

There was a few feet between the Mandalorian and Mayfield, but they may as well have been standing toe-to-toe for the amount of tension in the air. Zakia was happy to be left out of the testosterone-heavy dealings.

“You tell me.” Din’s helmet was firmly angled in Mayfield’s direction, unwavering even when Ran began laughing again. 

“You haven’t changed one bit.” The stocky man slapped his knees, and Zakia briefly wondered if he had a condition that made him so unbearably stupid.

Mayfield failed to find the humor in Mando’s statement. “Yeah, well, things have changed around here.”

Pulling himself back together, Ran hitched a thumb over his shoulder towards the frontman. “He’s one of the best triggermen I’ve ever seen. Former Imperial sharpshooter.”

The scoff which fought its way out of Zakia’s mouth wasn’t meant to be audible, but her words definetly were. Rubbing people the wrong way was one of her specialties. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Ay! I wasn’t no Stormtrooper.” Mayfield rounded on them, staring Zakia down from where he stood across a row of crates. “Think you can do better, doll?”

Din visibly stiffened as Mayfield watched his partner. As per usual, the blonde was undeterred. “Much better,  _ sweetheart _ .”

Mayfield’s stare then turned back to Din. “Keep your partner under control, Mando.”

Zakia called a sarcastic ‘it was nice meeting you’ after his retreating form, and Ran was once again letting out an awkward chuckle. 

“Doesn’t take long, does it?”

She rolled her eyes and kept quiet when Mando’s hand landed posessively on her back as Ran started leading them back through the maze of crates and tools. They followed the path Mayfield had taken, eventually dumping them back into the main hangar where the Crest was docked. 

“Razor Crest? I can’t believe that thing can fly.” Mayfield’s complaints reached Zakia’s ears before she saw him. “Looks like a Canto Bight slot machine.”

“Do you think I can strain my eyes from rolling them?” She quipped, turning to Mando. 

He was predictably silent, though Mayfield faltered for a moment at her attitude. Zakia maintained innocent eyes, and smiled sweetly at the ‘triggerman’. Malk looked close to opening his mouth, but a loud scraping from their right pulled the group’s attention away. Zakia maintained a fairly stoic sense of being most of the time, but her instincts screamed ‘ _ DANGER’  _ when she took in the Devaronian moving crates to their left. His presence had her on edge immediately. 

The Mandalorian seemed to feel the same, shoulders widening to partially block Zakia from view. 

“The good-lookin’ fellow there with the horns, that’s Burg.” Mayfield paused when the colossal man dropped the crate he had been moving. “This may surprise you, but he’s our muscle.”

With an unnecessary flourish, the Devaronian stepped forward, putting his massive frame nose-to-metal with Mando’s helmet. Din’s left hand rose to hover in front of Zakia, though he refused to back down from Burg’s intimidation tactic. It was apparent he was fond of scaring people- he jerked suddenly away from Din and circled around their backs to stand on the far side of Ran. Burg took caution to size-up Zakia as well, though she barely reached his chest on flat feet. 

“So this is a Mandalorian. I thought they’d be bigger.” 

For once, Zakia was thankful her name was left out. There was something about the Devaronian which had her skin crawling as if a thousand beetles were beneath it. He left them alone with Mayfield and Ran, who continued on with their introductions as if nothing had happened. 

“Droid’s name is Zero.” 

She hadn’t even noticed the bug-eyed droid mulling about some seven meters away. It spun at the sound of its name, taking short strides to meet them. Zakia was indifferent about its presence, as it looked respectful enough and programming usually prevented drastic action. However, Din’s glare was obvious even through his viewfinder. 

“I thought you said you had four?” 

The question was not the fight against droids Zakia had been expecting. She took a moment to think it over, counting their new colleagues in her head. Ran had said four, and he’d only brought them three thus far. 

“He does.”

Zakia squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. “Oh, put me out of my misery.” 

She pivoted at the same slow speed as Din, eyes narrowed and officially annoyed. A lavender-skinned Twi-lek sauntered towards them, knife spinning between her gloved hands. 

“Hello, Mando.” 

Zakia cringed at the sultry tone. 

“Xi’an.” Din’s tone was tired, and he was as visibly as excited as Zakia. 

“Oh, and your _ friend.” _ Xi’an got close to the blonde’s face, reached up purple fingers to touch her wild curls. Zakia’s hand shot up, wrapping tightly around the Twi’lek’s wrist and applying heavy pressure on the vulnerable spots. 

“Touch me, and I will kill you.” Zakia released her wrist with enough force to serve as a warning, thrusting the appendage back towards her. 

“Touchy, then?” Xi’an took a wise step back, though the look in her eyes clearly said they weren’t finished. “Mando, tell my why I shouldn’t cut you and your friend down right now?” 

“Wife.”

Zakia had to physically restrain herself from choking on her own saliva.. 

All of the rag-tag team was silent, before Xi’an let out a screeching laugh and others hesitantly followed. When they were momentarily free of prying eyes, Zakia raised a brow at Mando’s helmet. She wasn’t expecting an answer, but she wanted him to know how incredibly  _ attractive  _ it was when he said it. 

“I don’t like that look, we need to leave the room?” Mayfield looked between Zakia and Din. The former had still been looking at Mando’s visor, and shook her head. 

“You tell me, are you ever going to get on with business?” She snapped, examining her nails. 

Xi’an giggled again, and Zakia glared. 

“Alright, break it up till you get on the ship. Right now we don’t have much time.”

* * *

Din was far from thrilled to be back in his old company, especially when a bounty worth far more than all of them combined was sealed in a compartment not ten feet from them. 

Though Xi’an was actually the only one he had worked with before, the same uncertain feeling as all those years ago pooled in his stomach as soon as the plan was laid out before them. What he was told was a rescue from a rival syndicate was far from it. Their target or teammate, however Ran had put it, was arrested. 

Not only arrested, but imprisoned on a Republic prison ship. 

Zakia had immediately voiced her displeasure with the plans, and Mando had initially agreed. They were not in a position to take on that kind of heat. Nevertheless, they needed money to keep the Razor Crest full of fuel, bringing them back around to the job. He was assured it would be in-and-out, particularly with the Crest’s undetectable status. 

“I still don’t like this.”

Zakia and Din were crammed together in the ship’s only hidden spot. The droid was piloting, and the rest of the team was in the cargo hold. She had caught him by the arm as they meant to exit the cockpit, pushing him into the small alcove to the left of the ladder. They were concealed from both the droid and the team, though Mando’s armor alone took up most of the space. Zakia was pressed firmy into his cuirass. 

“I don’t either. But we need the credits.” Din wished nothing more than for them to be alone. “There’s something up with this crew.”

Zakia snorted. “You don’t say?” She wiggled around until she could fit a hand between them, poking his cuirass and letting her hand linger. “Though, it was kinda hot when you told them I was your wife.”

Mando licked his lips beneath the helmet, and momentarily forgot she couldn’t see his face. It hadn’t been planned, but seeing Zakia serve attitude back at Mayfield and Xi’an was appealing in a way he couldn’t pinpoint. Not to mention the fact that every man on Ran’s station looked like they were about to try and snatch her away. Din found himself amused at the thought; he had great sympathy for anyone who tried to force Zakia into anything against her will. Toro Calican had been the last, and he ended up with a knife in his neck. 

“When this job is done, I’ll show you-  _ what?”  _ Din’s armor rattled against the tight walls as something pounded the floor below them. Zakia pressed further into his body, eyes alarmed. It grounded him in an instant, as seeing actual fear in her eyes was nowhere close to common.

“ _ Stars _ , was that the Devaronian?” She hissed. 

“He’s the only one big enough.” Din whispered. He managed to squeeze a hand tight enough to cup her face. “I know he scares you.”

Zakia ground her teeth. “I don’t know why, he’s just a piece of shit like the rest of them.”

“Twice their size and mean.” Din added, taking a step back. 

“Thanks for the comfort,  _ husband _ . _ ”  _ Zakia teased, following him out of the small alcove. They descended the ladder, Mando hitting the floor first. He remained in place until Zakia was safely on the floor behind him, frowning when he saw Burg with his head stuck in the arms case. The Devaronian was inspecting his weapons, and threw his hand up when Din shut the door remotely with his vambrace. Burg slammed his hands on the metal, whirling to face Mando. 

His red fingers reached for the panel near the Child’s bunk, and Zakia’s fingers twisted into Mando’s cloak. Din snatched Burg by the wrist, pushing his own face towards the giant’s as he had done numerous times. The Devaronian snarled, pushing him back. Zakia was caught up in the scramble of feet, stumbling back a few steps as the Din was locked into a stare-down. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Okay. Okay. Okay, I get it.” Mayfield tried to soothe, “I’m a little particular about my personal space too. So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and none of you have to see our faces anymore.” 

Mando reached out to Zakia, fingers encircling her wrist and pulling her behind him and back to the side where an open bench awaited. He nudged her into it, all while keeping an eye on Burg. 

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian.” Burg grunted and looked to his teammates. Xi’an watched with what looked like intent to egg it on, while Mayfield looked surprisingly neutral. 

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

Mando wasn’t at all surprised by their attitude. The whole team’s front was one of intimidation and humiliation. Lucky for him, Zakia was around everyday to do those things and made it less impactful. 

“Then why are they all dead?”

Din did freeze at that question. Despite his obvious distaste, everybody but Zakia and himself laughed. He would not be on the offensive, and he would not put up a fight. Din knew these fools were barely worth his time, let alone any injury he may sustain. 

“Why don’t you tell us, doll?”

Zakia’s head snapped to the bald man, eyes hard. “About which part? Him being over-qualified to kick your ass, or….? I could continue.”

“I’m smart enough to know I should’ve expected attitude. Not a very joyful one, are you?” 

She hummed as if in deep thought. “Not particularly.”

“Well, you flew with them, Xi’an? What’s the story?” Mayfield turned his questions to an outside source. 

“She’s a sniper....” Xi’an drew out the ‘r’, speaking in hushed tone as if it were a Imperial secret. The Twi’lek kept on murmuring boredly as she balanced a dagger on her fingertip, “We only worked one job together on Alzoc III. Why don’t you ask them about it?”

“I did what I had to do.” Din shot back. Alzoc III had been a long time ago, and the first place he discovered Zakia’s talent for sharpshooting. They had taken out a whole company of soldiers for one person. Xi’an had thrived in the environment, and it was apparent she took her own feelings out of context. 

“Don’t start. You both liked it. Just had started this whole friends-with-benefits thing then, huh?” Xi’an was digging for a reaction from him or Zakia, but Mando was certain nothing would come of it.

“He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfield asked. 

Xi’an gave a quick shake of her head, pounding her fist into her chest mockingly. “ _ This is the Way.” _

No one in the room failed to catch the dig at the Mandalorians, and Din only tipped his helmet to the side. None of them were worth the reaction. 

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfield watched with something akin to actual curiosity, and Zakia inclined her chin in his direction. “Maybe he’s a Gungan. Is that why  _ yousa don’t wanna show your face?” _

Din was thankful for the ear protection his helmet provided when Burg let out a bellowing chuckle. 

“You ever seen his face?” Mayfield was once again looking to Xi’an for answers. The Twi’lek gasped in faux-offence, hand covering her heart. 

“A lady  _ never  _ tells.”

Din heard an audible snort from Zakia, whose icy eyes were cutting into Mayfield. The leader returned her gaze. 

“I bet she has.” Mayfield indicated, catching Burg’s attention. The Devaronian stomped close to Zakia, and Mando automatically moved forward. 

“What’s he look like?” The red-skinned man demanded. Zakia was holding her ground well despite her fear. 

“Why don’t you find someone else to yell at?” She stood, exiting the cargo hold into the small personal quarters. 

“Aw, come on, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. You gotta show us somethin’. Come on, just life the helmet up. Let us all see your eyes.” Mayfield’s urging was a waste. Din had faced far worse adversaries with much more to say. 

When no one moved, Mayfield looked to Burg. “I’ll do it.” 

The Devaronian stepped towards him, hand outstretched. Din sidestepped him and ducked, grabbing onto his tree-trunk of an arm and spinning. He reeled a hand back and threw it in a sideways punch, using the beskar to his advantage. It made contact with his head, and Burg fell back onto a pile of bags. But to Din’s horror, his hand brushed the bunk control pad. A pneumatic hiss followed, and then a soft coo. 

“Whoa. What is that?” 

The entire group craned to see the creature that was cooing happily from its bunk. Mayfield wandered over cautiously, eyes wide as he took in the green child. It peered up at him with gaurded eyes, and Din forced himself to remain in place. He couldn’t allow them to know that the Child was of any value to him. Showing weakness gets you killed. 

“Wait a minute. Maybe there is somethin’ weird under that helmet if you and blondie made this.” Mayfield grinned, sending a sideways look in Mando’s direction. Zakia chose that moment to reappear, and Din held up an arm to keep her back. “What is it, some kinda pet or somethin’?” 

Zakia’s fingers dug into Mando’s arm, and he managed to grit out a reply. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Xi’an paid close attention to Zakia’s hand on the Mandalorian’s arm, tilting her head and snickering to herself. “Never took you for the type. Maybe that code of your has made you soft.”

“At least he has a code.” Zakia said, setting petite hands onto her hips.

“I was never into pets.” Mayfield’s interjection made all three turn. “Yeah. I didn’t have the temperament. Patience, you know? I mean I tried, but it never worked out. But I’m thinkin’-  _ maybe,  _ I’ll try again with this little fella.”

He reached into the cubby and lifted the Child. It chattered happily at the seemingly innocent coddling, and its big eyes locked onto Zakia shortly thereafter. They darkened just a hint, and Din was sure it could read Zakia’ s mood. Mayfield, at first, seemed to be harmless enough. He bounced a bit, searching the hunters’ faces for any betrayed emotions. 

Zakia’s facade was far better than Din’s was, had he been without his helmet. She was straight-faced as ever, scar drawing her lip into in more sinister version of her natural sneer. Her hands remained still on her hips, not moving an inch to stop the sharpshooter that held the Child. 

Hence, when Mayfield jolted forward as if to drop the Child, Din found himself flinching. Zakia was mercifully still, and her icy irises bore holes into Mayfield’s head. Xi’an found Mando’s reaction amusing, stifling a giggle. 

“Dropping out of hyperspace- now.”

Din was robbed of the time to contemplate any further when the Crest lurched forward. He cursed the droid in his head- even he gave warnings about leaving hyperspace, and definitely more than a second’s worth. They had all tumbled into walls, and had just began recovering when Zero spoke again. 

“Commencing final approach- now.”

Zakia clutched haplessly at his cloak, hands searching for something of stable nature to keep her upright. Mando grabbed her belt with his free hand, hauling her up beside him. 

“Cloaking signal- now.” 

This time the ship banked hard, and Mando was thankful he had pulled Zakia up or she would’ve been squished beneath him. The Child had also tumbled to the ground, Mayfield and Xi’an tossed far across the cargo hold. Zero began talking about the coupling process, and the ship finally began to steady. Zakia wrapped an arm around the Child and helped Mando up, allowing him to take the baby and lock him back into the bunk. Din tapped into his vambrace’s control system, setting a PIN lock on the control panel so no one would be able to open it. As Ran’s team communicated with the Zero via their coms, Mando turned to Zakia and kept his back to the others. 

“You have your com?”

“Of course I do. Put us on a separate channel?” Zakia was wrapping her hair up into her headscarf and concealing her face. 

“Already done. I don’t trust them. You stay with me, I don’t care how they want to split up.”

Zakia finished wrapping her scarf and patted her empty blaster holder. “I need a backup.”

Mando opened the arms cabinet, covertly removing two blaster pistols without drawing unwanted attention. He handed one to Zakia, and reached around her to tuck the other into the elastic waistband of her pants. He allowed his fingers to brush her exposed skin. 

“Stay close?” 

Zakia nodded. “You’ve said that a lot today.”

Din could only nod as a lump lodged itself in his throat, dreading what was to follow. 

  
  
  
  
  



	15. Part XV: Mistake

Zakia was unsurprised when getting into the prison turned out to be the easiest part of their mission. 

As she was aware from years in the field, it was not difficult to get yourself unwillingly thrown in prison. One wrong word in a cantina, a little pick-pocketing gone bad, skipping bail, stealing Daddy’s money and running… her list could drag on all the way to the extremes. Even so, Zakia had never considered the possibility she would go in on her own accord.

It would be a lie to say she had not considered closing the hatch behind Malk’s crew and flying the Razor Crest away from the prison. Close the door, shoot the droid, leave. How hard could it be? Contradictorily, her mind continued to revolve around the Child. If they failed the job, they received no money. And no money generally meant _no_ sustenance and _no_ fuel. 

In the end, desperation for money was the reason Zakia found herself facing off with four heavily armed droids in the prison vessel’s hallway. The robots' appearance had the whole group scattering, while Din and Zakia took the opportunity to find a hallway that lead around so they could engage the droids from behind. Mayfield was shouting in the distance, no doubt claiming her and Mando weren’t worth their time. It wasn’t until his repetitive shout of _“I knew it!”_ That the duo stepped out behind the droids. 

“Left.” Zakia claimed, sneaking a glance at Mando. 

They both attacked at the same time, a silent ambush upon the mechanical enemies. Armed with vibroknives that were more than capable of severing the droid’s joints, Zakia leapt up while Mando went for the ground. It was a tactical move they had almost perfected. She was short, and it made it easy for falling enemies to intercept her when he went for their legs. If Zakia instead leapt upwards to a second enemy’s shoulders, the attack was easily evaded. 

Zakia scaled the droid’s back, swiping her knife downwards from above the elbow joint. The forearm clanked to the floor, but the other one wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her over its shoulders. It no longer had a weapon to brandish, and Zakia used the lack of defense to her advantage. Tipping her weight forward, she brought the machine to the ground and sliced the knife through the wires in its neck. The lights across its body flickered out, and she scrambled to her feet. 

The remaining two droids were already on them, and the Mandalorian staggered back when one fired into his cuirass. Zakia pulled her blaster on the other, rolling out of the way of its shots and firing her own into its chest. She aimed, but a resounding ‘ _PING’_ echoed through the hall and her target fell. A knife protruded from the seam of its chestplate, and Zakia pouted as she yanked the weapon free. 

“That was mine, Man- _ah!_ ” Zakia leapt for cover as a blaster bolt zinged by her ear. 

Another set of droids approached, marching forward in sync. She briefly wondered why Mayfield and the team hadn’t stepped in to help, but only sent a sideways glance towards where they hid. 

“If you want something done right, do it yourself.” She muttered, pivoting out from her hiding spot and firing back on the droids. She aimed for their necks this time, the bolts landing true and causing both to fall to the ground in a heap of metal. The Mandalorian leapt over said pile as more droids marched in, using the flamethrowers in his gauntlets to melt them down. One managed to heave back up, only for Din to snatch its blaster away and fire the weapon back into the droid’s head. 

Zakia straightened and holstered her guns once the hallway quieted. Mando’s helm was fixed on the team’s hiding spot, and he threw the droid’s blaster to the ground. It clattered against the smooth floor, the sound sending a clear message to the team who had ducked for cover at the first sign of trouble. Zakia ignored the trio as she skipped over piles of smoking metal, bringing herself to Mando’s side so they stood as a unit. 

“Make sure you clean up your mess.” Mayfield’s parting words as the group strode past like nothing happened were more disconcerting than usual. 

Xi’an leered into Zakia’s space with her strange giggle, and the blonde raised a single brow at the Twi’lek before she carried on. Burg jogged past, a purposeful shoulder ramming into Mando’s pauldron. 

“Great.” Zakia shook her head, and Din set his hand back in its new favorite place on her back. He nudged her forward gently, following after the group. “I can’t wait until this is over.”

The Mandalorian’s viewfinder pointed towards her. “You and I both.”

_“It seems your presence has been detected. Redirecting security alert away from your position.”_

Zakia heard Zero’s tinny voice through the speaker in her ear as they turned a corner to what looked to be the control room. 

“Open the door, Z!” Mayfield called through the link, making Zakia wince at the voice in her ear. 

_“ But I am detecting an organic signature.”_

“Yeah, alright, just open the door!” 

Zakia tapped the controls on her wrist to switch to her and Mando’s link. “Organic?” 

She spoke softly enough to avoid the other’s detection, and Mando’s voice floated into her ear.

_“ There’s a human on board.”_

The door slid open before any protest could be made, revealing a stout man in a New Republic uniform. He had been seated at the security desk, but shot to his feet at the sight of intruders. The soldier brandished a blaster. 

“Stop!” 

Mando drew his weapon as well, sidestepping so Zakia was behind him and unprovoked to draw on an innocent man.

“Just stop right there.” The guard was shaking, and Zakia was fairly sure she was too, but didn’t comment on it. “You put down your blasters right now.”

His anxiety took an unfortunate precedence, and the soldier didn’t fire when Mayfield let himself into the room. 

“Nice shoes.” He commented, walking the perimeter slowly and ignoring a second command to put their weapons down. “Matches his belt.”

Zakia stayed in step with Mando, keeping her blaster holstered but her hand ready to pull. 

“There were only supposed to be droids on this ship.” Din said, head tipped in Mayfield’s direction. 

“Hang on, hang on. Let’s see here…” The triggerman was surveying the controls, scrolling through a list of inmates. “Cell 2-2-1.” 

Zakia kept her eyes on the Republic soldier, trying to convey sympathy through her gaze. There was no reason he should have been caught up in the outrageous plan. 

“Alright, now for our well-dressed friend.”

At Mayfield’s ominous words, the man pulled a tracking beacon from his belt and held it like a second weapon. The frontman tensed, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. Zakia knew they wouldn’t have a chance if he activated it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, easy, Egghead. Put that down. Come on.” 

“Easy.” Mando dropped his voice, speaking in a soothing tone to the man. 

Going with the nature of the mission though, Mayfield ruined it. “Put it down, now!”

“Shut it, Mayfield!” Zakia snapped at the same time Mando spoke, “Easy. Nobody has to get hurt here. Just calm down.”

“What is that thing?” Burg demanded, voice booming against the walls of the control room. 

“It’s a tracking beacon.” Din said calmly. 

“He presses that thing, we’re all done. A New Republic attack team will hone in on that signal and blow us all to hell. Put it down!”

Xi’an took that moment to lean forward from the chair she had occupied. “Are you serious?”

Zakia’s eyes snapped to her. “What did you think it was for, his remote control toy?”

The Twi’lek hissed. “Then why didn’t you tell us that, blondie?”

“Stop! I didn’t think we’d get to this point!” Mayfield's inability to operate under pressure was becoming incredibly apparent. 

“And here we are.” Zakia didn’t understand how Xi’an was dumb enough to underestimate the gravity of their situation. 

“Are you questioning my managerial style, Xi’an?” Mayfield demanded, striding towards her.

“What is even happening?” Zakia’s eyes darted back and forth between the conflicting two thirds of Ran’s team and Mando. 

“Hey. Listen to me. Okay? Look.” Din caught the guard’s attention and holstered his blaster. “Hey put it down.”

The second command was directed at Mayfield, who stared blankly. “Are you crazy?”

Zakia pointed at the ‘manager’. “Put it down.”

He seemed to see something in her eyes that made him listen, and all the blasters except the guards slowly lowered. 

“Alright. What’s your name?” Din asked, keeping one hand out in front of him. 

The man swallowed, nervous eyes finding purchase on Zakia’s partially-hidden face. “It’s Davan.”

Zakia gave the smallest of nods, encouraging him to relax without words. 

“Davan. We’re not here for you, we’re here for a prisoner.” Din reassured, “If you let us go about our job, you can walk away with your life.”

“No he won’t.” Mayfield lifted his blaster, leveling it back at Davan’s head. 

It was that which made Zakia draw her blaster. She pointed it at Mayfield, and the room froze. “You’re gonna bring hell raining down on here, moron.” 

“You think I care about that?” Mayfield returned. 

Zakia gaped at him. “Well, it means you’re gonna be dead, so I sure as _shit_ hope so!” 

Mando held up a hand. “We’re not killing anybody. Understand?” 

“Get that blaster out of my face, lady.” Mayfield looked to the Mandalorian. “Get a leash on her.”

“I can’t do that.”

Zakia wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the leash or her dropping the weapon, but she was unmoved on both subjects. 

“Get the blaster outta my face!” 

At Mayfield’s strangled yelling, Burg lifted his own blaster and pressed the muzzle to Zakia’s head. Mando moved at light speed, pushing her back to level his blaster at Mayfield and flamethrower at Burg. 

“Don’t.” He warned, helmet on a swivel between the two. Zakia was halfway behind him, out of Burg’s firing line but still able to keep Mayfield locked in her sights. 

“You need-”

A flash of blue energy crackled across the room, and Zakia jumped into Mando’s back when Davan collapsed at her feet. Xi’an stood from her chair, eyes rolling.

“Would the three of you just shut up?” She sauntered across the room, pushing by Zakia and Mando to kneel by Davan’s corpse. She drew one tiny dagger from his heart, twirling it between her purple fingers. 

“Crazy Twi.” Mayfield commented. He readjusted his shoulder straps, watching Xi’an bend down. “I had it under control.”

“Yeah. Looked like it.” 

Zakia wasn’t paying attention to Xi’an though. It was the tiny plastic square on the ground which caught her attention It flashed with three red lights, and beeped at an increasing speed. Her eyes darted to Mando, who was looking in the same place. 

“Was that thing blinking before?” Mayfield asked, “Was it?”

She only shook her head, taking a small step back. The com in Zakia’s ear crackled, though Din remained perfectly still. 

_“You’re ready if this goes bad?”_ He rasped, voice a whisper beneath his helmet. 

Zakia bit her lip, turning back toward the hallway as if she were thinking. “It already has.” She breathed. 

Mando must have spliced their coms back into the groups when Zero’s voice cut sharply into her ear. _“_ _I’ve detected a New Republic distress signal honing in on your location. You have approximately twenty minutes.”_

Much to Zakia’s annoyance, Xi’an spoke again. “We only need five.”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Move!” Mayfield urged them all out of the room. 

Din grabbed Zakia’s arm. “Something’s up.”

“Kriff, Din, you don’t say? Something’s been up this whole time!” Zakia argued, shoving her blaster back into its holster when she noticed it still dangling between her fingers. 

A sigh slipped out from under his helmet, crackling through the modulator. “Watch your back.”

They followed after the group, boots whispering against the floor. Din and Zakia caught up after a few corners, but jerked to a sudden stop when a cylindrical droid hovered through a cross section of hallways. Much to the hunters' surprise, Burg tackled the droid right out of the air. The massive Davaronian smashed it into the floor, roaring angrily and using it as a weapon when a similar droid floated around the next corner. 

Continuing on, Mando kept an eye on the back of the group. Zakia ran with her blaster in hand, pointed down but ready for any incoming threats. It seemed like an eternity, but the rag-tag bunch eventually came upon cell number two-two-one. Mayfield withdrew a key- he must have snatched it from Davan’s body- and inserted it into the lock. Zakia watched the mechanism spin and click into place. 

“Z, open it up.”

 _“You have fifteen minutes remaining.”_ Another entirely unhelpful response from the droid. 

“Z, open it up!”

At the second command, the lock spun once more and all of the door lights flashed green. It lifted at once, and Zakia stared. She didn’t recognize the Twi’lek sitting on the bench, but his presence seemed to bother Din. 

“Qin.” The Mandalorian said, taking a step towards the cell. Zakia watched curiously, hands still wrapped around her blaster. She assumed Qin was a part of Ran’s crew that Mando had worked with before Zakia came along. 

Qin stood, jarring gait bringing him further into the light. His lekku were short but wide, as was his frame. He had deep scar-like lesions running down either side of his face, and Zakia was not at all fond of the look on his face. “Funny. The man who left me behind is now my savior.” 

_“Get to the ship.”_

Zakia tensed at Din's voice, and everything around her dropped into slow motioned.

Burg launched a fist that landed on Mando's chestplate, thrusting him into the cell. It burned Zakia, but she took off as fast as she could back towards the Razor Crest. She could hear the group yelling to pursue her, but pushed hard. Her short legs had a natural disadvantage, but she kept moving until the sounds of the group faded. 

“Damn it!” She was lost.

_“Zak? Zak, are you okay?”_

Zakia huffed as she kept moving, looking for any sign of their carnage or a clue as to the direction they’d come from. “I’m fine, but I think I’m lost.”

“ _Keep trying to find the ship. I’m- hold on.”_

She moved at a jog, her thoughts nagging her. Zero could track her bio-signature, and give her location to the group. She had to find a way to conceal herself. 

“ _Zakia, where are you?”_ Din’s voice was strained, and it sounded like he was breathing heavy. 

“I don’t know, I can’t tell. I made a right and then three lefts. And another right. I was running.” Zakia replied. “Are you okay?”

_“I caught one of the guard droids- they have keys. I’m trying to find you.”_

A breath of relief left her heaving chest, but the feeling was quickly squashed by footsteps. She flattened herself into the wall, hiding behind the support rings that built the foundation. She heard the group pass by in the crossing hallway, and prayed they hadn’t noticed. 

“Which way did she go?”

“How am I supposed to know? This whole place looks the same.” 

Zakia closed her eyes as their voices passed, and her heart thudded into her ribcage. She stepped out, only to run smack into a figure rounding the corner. The collision knocked her off her feet, and Zakia pulled the vibroknife from her boot. She pointed it up, expecting to cut through the joints of another droid. Instead, the blade came into contact with an unbreakable metal, sending tiny pinpricks down her wrist and finger bones. 

“Zakia?”

The strangled sound that escaped her was not at all in character, and she allowed the Mandalorian to haul her back onto her feet. She would have loved a moment to breathe, despite the fact is was not remotely close to being considered an option. 

“How’d you find me?” Zakia could barely hear herself over the blood roaring in her ears, and she followed as Mando continued to make his way down the hall. 

“Followed your directions. You made one wrong turn. Now-” He motioned for her to follow as he turned left. “-we’re back to the control room.”

Zakia was grateful Mando had a sense of the prison. Some of it could undoubtedly be contributed to the tech within his helmet, but they were practically one and the same at that point. He herded her into the room, surveying the monitors. 

Zakia trailed her fingers over the keys, stepping over the body on the floor as if it wasn’t there. There was a set of buttons labeled ‘Lockdown’ which immediately appealed to her. 

“Where are they?”

Mando took a gander at the monitor they were on. “Section K3-4.”

Zakia typed in the section, and pressed the ‘engage’ button on the console. The entire ship was plunged into a temporary darkness, and Zakia’s hand shot out to grip Din’s bicep. “Did I mess it up?”

Her answer came in the form of the emergency lights, illuminating the halls in an ominous, sickly red tone. They watched the group move on the screens, and Mando hovered a hand over the controls, occasionally closing a firewall to drive the group as he wished. Zakia took note of his actions, smile tugging at her lips. “I see.”

With a very specific jab, he managed to slide a door shut in the middle of the team. Mayfield and Qin were on one side, while Xi’an and Burg were stuck on the other. Zakia tapped her nails against the counter, keeping the doorway in her peripheral

“Where is it?” Mando hummed, walking across the room. Zakia furrowed her brow.

“What?’

“The jammer.”

Zakia traced a finger over the console, pausing at a switch with a static symbol above it. She flipped it up, and tapped at the com unit in her ear. “Hear that?”

Mando shook his head. 

“Then we’re set.”

Din watched the screens for another second, trying to make a decision on who would find the controls first. Once he saw the Devaronian coming in their direction, he kicked into gear. “We need to hide.”

Zakia’s eyes darted around the room, but eventually settled on the ceiling. “Din. Look.”

She pointed up, and he noticed a sideways grate in the metal ceiling. “Let’s go.”

After debating about who should climb up first, they decided it would be Din. Wearing armor usually brought about that situation, and Zakia wasn’t keen on going up first anyway. He used the tip of his knife to maneuver the grate enough to where he could fit. After it was moved, Din crouched down and launched his body upwards. His hands latched onto the edge, and he scrambled to get his elbows on. Once that was done, it was simple to haul the rest of his body up. He reached his arms down to Zakia, and she grasped onto him with all her strength. It didn’t take much to pull her slight frame into the ceiling, and he replaced the grate when she was on stable metal. 

The habitable part of the attic-area more than large enough for both of them, but Zakia’s back stayed firmly against Din’s body. Despite their predicament, the sexual tension plaguing their relationship was painfully clear. Being on the run was hard enough, and having a toddler on board even moreso. Zakia didn’t argue when his arm wrapped around her middle, keeping her tight against his body. She tilted her head towards him, cheek brushing his helmet. 

“Is it bad that you have been turning me on all day?” She said. 

“Funny.” Mando husked in her ear, “I’d been thinking the same about you.”

Zakia’s fingers dug into his wrists as he spoke, chewing on her lip.

“It’s a shame we’re locked in a prison and not _alone_.”

The way he said ‘alone’ sent shivers running down her spine, even though Zakia was drenched in sweat. Din’s warm body pressed against her own wasn’t helping, and the words he spoke made her blood run hot. His fingers drummed against her side, sneaking beneath the hem of her shirt. Footsteps pounded towards them below, and Zakia batted his hand away. 

“Stop trying to get in my pants when there’s a Devaronian coming to kill us.” She murmured. 

“We’ve done worse.”

Zakia didn’t have the opportunity to respond, as a dreadfully familiar red form appeared through the grates below them. She felt the need to hold her breath for silence, watching the beast search for them. 

“Where are you, little mouse?” 

Din pulled his arm from around Zakia, pressing his closed fist into the floor and aiming carefully. Zakia pushed away as he fired his grappling hook down and tightened it around the Devaronian’s neck. Din staggered back to his feet, struggling against Burg’s incredible strength. Much to Zakia’s chagrin, the grate gave in.

With a mighty heave, the horned man had them both falling to the floor. Zakia gasped as pain shot through her leg where Mando fell on it. They were a tangle of limbs, struggling to their feet as Burg attacked. Din grabbed the Devarorian’s wrist, and a series of tiny rockets jetted from his vambrace. Zakia yelped, ducking down and rolling away when one came too close. Burg focused on Din, tossing the Mandalorian into the console and dragging his helmet across the controls. Zakia skittered backwards, drawing her blaster and firing off two failed shots as both men tussled with each other. Burg ended up in the sliding doorway, and Mando shot the control panel. The door dropped, and Zakia sighed in relief. 

Though, it seemed she was not allowed to have any sort of happiness that day. Burg was still moving, pushing the door upwards. She grit her teeth and raised her blaster, firing before Din or Burg could react. The Devaronian fell, and the door chased him down. A sick squelching noise followed, and Zakia wrinkled her nose. 

“Here I thought he was gross when he was alive.”

They departed from the control center, next target being Xi’an. Din synced the whole floor plan to his helmet, and led them to her last position while the blonde limped along beside him. Her leg was throbbing from their fall, the only thing aiding her being the adrenaline rushing through her veins. Zakia clenched and unclenched her fists when they stepped into the hall behind their Twi target. She didn’t doubt that Xi’an sensed their presence, and the Twi spun around with knives in hand. 

Zakia waved sweetly, answered by Xi’an’s snarl. Daggers were thrown in their direction, and Mando took the brunt of it with his armor. Zakia hid between the wall supports again, blaster in front of her and primed to fire. She heard Mando grunt in pain, and stepped out with both blasters pointed at Xi’an. She had managed to spear him with one of the stilettos, its glowing blue tip sticking out from just under his pauldron. It was barely a flesh wound considers how small the knives were, and Mando had managed to wrangle the Twi’lek into a headlock as a testament to his strength. His vibroknife was at Xi’an’s throat, and Zakia smirked.

“Drop the knives or I’ll drop you.”

* * *

It was simple work, rounding up the rest of the crew. 

Zakia took pleasure in locking up Mayfield and Xi’an; furthermore when Mando forced Qin up the ladder and into the Crest. They had found Zero peering into the baby’s bunk with a blaster drawn, and Zakia made quick work out of destroying and disposing of the droid. Qin watched everything with interest from the beginning to the end of their journey, up to the point where Ran paid them due to the ‘no questions’ policy. 

After they’d left Ran’s station, Zakia held the Child against her chest, nose brushing his fuzzy head. “I missed you.”

The Child giggled, swatting playfully at her hair and tugging on the strangs. Zakia stood to move into the kitchen, stumbling to the side when the ship lurched. It was a hyperspace jump, and she furrowed her brows. Zakia shuffled over to the ladder, favoring her aching leg and looking up. 

“Why so soon with the hyperspace?”

Din’s head appeared in her sightline, and it soon turned into his whole body as he shimmied down the ladder. He held his right arm tenderly after Xi’an’s blade had pierced it, but it was nothing more than sore.

“Ran was sending a fighter after us. But they have their own surprise coming.” 

Zakia patted the Child’s back as he voiced his protest about leaving the kitchen. “What’s that?”

“They might be getting an early inspection from the Republic.”

Her jaw dropped. “You took the beacon.”

Mando nodded. “Yes.”

Laughter filled the cabin after a stunned silence, the sound echoing from both the Mandalorian and Zakia. The baby laughed at their sudden outburst, big eyes bouncing back and forth between the pair. It was a rare event to hear Din truly laugh, and Zakia reveled in the sound. 

“That job was terrible.”

“I’d have to agree.” Din took the Child from her, bouncing him gently against his pauldron. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but it’s about bedtime for everyone aboard. So he’s getting a snack and then going down.” Zakia opened and closed cupboards, searching for a special treat for the Child. She eventually came across a ration bar with an absurd amount of sweetener in it, and broke the dessert into pieces. 

“Here you go, buddy.” Zakia held up a fragment, and the kid snatched it straight from her fingers with his teeth. “Hey! Easy, you piranha.” 

Din nodded towards the cockpit. “I’m gonna clean up.”

Zakia understood the silent request, standing up shakily and heading for the ladder. She scaled it with relative ease, and ducked back down to take the kid from Mando. 

“Put bacta on your shoulder.” Zakia ordered, lifting the Child onto the cockpit floor.

“Yes, mother. Thank you.”

The doors slid shut, and Zakia sighed. She sat cross-legged with the kid, setting the snack out on the floor and allowing him to choose which piece he wanted first. It took a few minutes for her body to relax from the day and realize it was safe. The Child was babbling happily, and returned to his normal routine of tossing the acceleration lever’s topper across the room. Zakia dozed off at the familiar cacophony, eyes fluttering shut as she rested against the wall.

Almost a full hour passed before Din climbed up into the cockpit. After bandaging his shoulder and rinsing the blood from his body, he took the time to shave and breather without a helmet covering his face. He emerged in a soft black and gray tunic, with black pants and his helmet fixed into place. His beskar had been cleaned and set out, littering the cabin floor. 

There was a soft scraping noise coming from above, indicative of the Child’s playing, but no voices. He hauled himself up the ladder, opening the cockpit door and letting himself in. The kid yelped excitedly at his presence, and Din smirked beneath the helm.

Zakia’s legs were outstretched in front of him, and his eyes followed the limbs up to her body. She had leaned back into the wall, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and Din smiled. He scooped up the kid and stepped back down the ladder. The Child fussed about being deposited in his bunk, only relaxing when Din left the door open to avoid closing him off. 

Returning to the cockpit, he set out to double check their course and set the autopilot to his desired setting. Din cracked his neck, watching hyperspace swirl by for a moment before turning back to his partner. She was still fast asleep, mouth slightly agape and eyelashes tickling her cheeks. He smiled, switching all of the lights off and reaching to his jawline to pull away the helmet. The fresh air was a relief against his face, and he held the beskar gingerly with a few fingers as he lifted Zakia from under the shoulders. She unconsciously curled into him, arms wrapping around his neck and face burying itself in the crook of his shoulder. Zakia’s legs wrapped around his waist, and Din used one hand to steady her against him as he dropped to the cabin below. The whole ship was dark, but he knew his way around well enough to make it to their quarters without incident. 

Din set his helmet beside the bed, and softly laid Zakia in the pile of blankets. He brushed a hand over her cheek, and felt her eyelashes flutter against his finger. 

“Hmm… Din?”

“Present.” 

Zakia’s hand flopped about lazily in a clear signal for him to join her. He did just that, pulling the tunic from his chest and dropping it on the floor. Her fingers wound around his arms, and Din reveled in the warmth of her body under the blankets. As was their normal routine, Din shuffled about to pull her onto his chest. Zakia resisted, staying firmly planted on her back. 

“No…” She wound her had into his hair, tugging down. “You always take care of me.”

Her sleepy words helped relax his strung-out nerves, and he lowered himself without resistance. Her fingers entwined with his hair, scraping against his scalp. Din allowed his body to rest just to her side, head propped on her chest. His nose brushed her chin, and Zakia ducked her head to kiss it gently. 

“How’s your shoulder?”

Din wiggled the joint about. “Not bad. The bacta took care of it.”

“Good.” Zakia’s fingers traveled down his neck, massaging his nape and tugging at the hair there. “You know… You were pretty quiet today. Touchy.”

“You said earlier that it _turned you on_.” He shot back, readjusting so his face was hovering over hers in the darkness. One elbow propped him up on his side, and the other arm reached across her body. “Change your mind?”

 _“Stars_ , no.” Zakia set a hand on his bare shoulder, tracing it all the way up to his lips. “I just thought you’d want to know that you’re it.”

“It?”

“For me. You’re it. No one else could drag me away if they tried.”

Din’s heart skipped, and he didn’t have to speak to reply. He leaned down to join their lips, relishing in the warmth that spread through his veins. The only thing that could make it better was if he could turn the lights on. To let her see the sincerity in his eyes and the determination to stay together through whatever remained. 

But until his Creed was broken, they would remain forever in the dark. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all of the comments and kudos, I love you guys! Next chapter, plan on a breather before the finale episode(s) and lots of fluff. I couldn't help it after The Prisoner episode, it just had me thinking.  
> See you soon ;)


	16. Part XVI: Between

_“Are you sure?”_

_Zakia was nose-to-nose with the stout droid behind the medic’s small counter. She was a ball of nerves, brain firing on all cylinders as she debated her course of action. The machine she stood near only moved a hand up to her shoulder._

_“I can assure you my tests are incredibly accurate. Their accuracy percentage combined with your late cycles indicate a Ninety-nine point three five percent chance that you are indeed with child.”_

_Another patron in the waiting room, a Gungan who was reading the local news, looked up at the blonde. Zakia pointed at the patient._

_“You didn’t hear any of this.”_

_“Me’sa don’t even know you!”_

_Zakia heaved a sigh and slid a couple credit chips to the droid. “Alright. Thanks.”_

_“Here is our standard pregnancy package. It is included with your care for today.” The droid plopped a package of goods onto the counter, and Zakia stuffed it into her small sidebag._

_“Thanks.”_

_She hustled out of the building, back into the bazaar streets. Her and the Mandalorian had stopped on the small planet to refuel on their way to Nevarro. After a strange bout of vomiting and fatigue, Zakia had ran into the medic looking for medication and came out with far more important concerns._

_How the hell was she supposed to tell Din?_

_It was not an issue of insecurity- they had been taking part in a romantic relationship for years, and had known each other for far longer. But she was afraid of his reaction. Din thrived as a bounty hunter. He was the best in the parsec, save for her of course, but their score counted as one now. Adhering to Guild rules, they still took bounties out in their own names, but they worked together to bring them in. It was twice the money in half the time._

_“Shit, shit, shit.” Zakia chanted. Her feet were carrying her back to where the Razor Crest had made port, and she dug her heels into the ground. “What am I doing?”_

_She rested a hand over her stomach, coming to lean against the side of a small shop. The planet they were on was of a relatively cool atmosphere, with plenty of shady spots to lay low. Zakia took advantage of one, stopping to scrub a hand through her hair. How did this even happen?_

_They were normally careful, but had become slack in their cautiousness in recent months. There had been plenty of times they got a little too cozy while in hyperspace, or on stakeouts during hunts where there was no time to consider consequences. In fact, there was an incident nearing on a month ago that stuck out in her mind._

_It had been on a small moon with thick forests, similar to Endor. Zakia and the Mandalorian had been perched in the highest branches of the massive trees, using his Amban rifle to scope out a small village where their target was supposedly hidden. They had watched him go to bed, and didn’t want to draw the whole village out. So they resolved to capturing him when he set out the following morning. Pressed a little too close for a few boring hours, Zakia and Din found other ways to occupy their time._

_She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Stupid. Stupid.”_

_But Zakia wasn’t one to tiptoe around the truth. They needed to figure out what to do, and needed to figure it out fast. But to do that, she needed to tell Din. Her heart clenched, and she forced her body away from the wall. Zakia steered herself in the direction of the Crest, finding it docked among numerous other ships._

_“Afternoon, Ma’am.” One of the port workers called as she neared. Zakia forced a smile._

_The ramp hissed down as if Mando had been waiting. In all fairness, he probably had been. Zakia hopped up, frowning at the haze of carbonite gas in the air. She swiped her hand in front of her nose to offset the smell, eyes searching the cabin._

_“Mando?”_

_A silver helmet appeared from around a corner. “Here.”_

_She pointed to the carbonite freezer. “Did you… freeze someone?”_

_“Found a bounty. Some Kubaz couldn’t get the job done, so I took over.” He answered._

_Oh yes. A perfect, child-friendly life they lived._

_“Did you get medication?” Din asked, crossing the cabin to where she stood. She would have still been in the doorway had it not shut right behind her._

_Zakia’s heart rate soared as the Mandalorian drew closer. She froze in place, feet glued to the ground beneath them. Mando’s head tipped in a clear sign of curiosity before a hand came to rest on her shoulder._

_“Zakia?”_

_She forced her eyes to look into his viewfinder. Zakia wished for anything that she could see his eyes instead of the cold steel of his mask. Her mind drifted to many nights spent in the darkness of their bed, and tried to puzzle his face together in her mind. It sounded like an easy task given the amount of times her fingers had traversed the plains of bare skin, but in that moment it seemed impossible._

_“...Zakia?” Din shook her gently, hands traveling from her shoulders to her wrist. “You’re trembling.”_

_“I’m pregnant.”_

_The words fell out of her mouth in a jumbled stream. Tears stung her eyes, and they were falling before her mind even caught up to her mouth. She squinted through the water works to see Din before her. He was motionless, still gripping her wrists in his gloved hands. No sounds were audible through the modulator._

_“I-I don’t know what happened, Din. I-”_

_“You’re pregnant?”_

_A sob shook her body. “Yes.”_

_Much to her shock, the Mandalorian lowered himself to one knee. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner adiik.”_

Zakia woke slowly, mind doing everything in its power to remain in the warm clutches of sleep. The flashback was fresh on her mind, lingering in the fuzzy corners that were reluctant to peel away from slumber. Zakia was warm and comfortable, a reassuring weight draped over her torso to keep her in place. One hand was brave enough to emerge from the comforts of their blanket, fingers twisting into the hair of her bedmate. 

Din and her had shifted, but maintained the comforting position in which they’d fallen asleep. Zakia was on her back, head resting sideways on the pillow. Din had remained on her chest, nuzzled into her collarbone where his cheek rested and legs tangled with hers. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and Zakia was beginning to equate him to a vine. She ran gentle fingers down his face, tucking hair behind his ears with hopes it might stay in place. 

Drifting back into thoughts of her dream, Zakia tried to piece his face together in her mind. Square jaw, long nose, wavy hair. But so many things were left out. What color were his eyes? His hair? His skin? All things that prevented her from creating a mental pictures. 

“Mmhmm… that tickles…” 

She laughed softly, and the Mandalorian wrapped around her grumbled at the movement as it jostled his head. His grip tightened momentarily before growing slack again, and Zakia lifted her head best she could in the dark cabin. She tucked her chin, taking a moment to locate his forehead and place a soft kiss upon it. 

“Are you already awake?” Din mumbled into her skin, nuzzling into her neck. “I don’t wanna be.”

Zakia was about to reply when a soft scratching noise drew her attention. She furrowed her brow, hand stilling in Din’s hair. “Did you hear that?”

He was uncharacteristically silent before exhaling against her jugular. “It’s the kid.”

“Baby?” Zakia called out in the dark cabin. “Where are you?”

A squeak from the foot of the bed was indication enough, and a soft tug on the blanket only confirmed the suspicion. It only took a few moments for a whole body to crawl into the warmth of their bed. The kid cooed, pawing at Zakia’s leg. 

“Come up here. I’m not moving, It’s too cold.” Zakia told it. She was aware that speaking was not one of the Child’s championed capabilities, but he seemed to get the jist of most things. Tiny grunts of effort from a tiny creature echoed through the space until Zakia no longer felt the Child on her body. Din had stayed quiet the whole time, attesting to how exhausted he was.

“Baby?” She whispered.

“Womp rat.” Din corrected grumpily. The arm wrapped around her top reached out showed her to the Child’s new location. 

The tiny green bean had climbed all the way up into their nest of blankets, pushing himself underneath the Mandalorian’s arm and into his ribs. His long ears brushed Zakia’s fingers as she chuckled, stretching two fingers to the Child.

“I think he likes you.” 

Din answered only by closing his eyes against the darkness and laying down where he felt most secure.

* * *

A few hours had trickled by before anyone emerged from the cabin.

Din woke to a bed lacking its normal female tennant, though a small presence under his arm told him he wasn’t alone. The quarters were still dark, but it took Din little to no time to dress and exit. He carried the Child in the crook of his right arm, bouncing gently when the creature stirred. It seemed to doze off as he scaled the ladder, tapping at the cockpit door until it creaked open. 

Making a mental note to oil the locking mechanism, he clambered onto the top floor. Zakia was in her usual spot when he was absent, hands folded in her lap as she gazed at the stars. She sat in the pilot’s seat with her feet propped on the console, just to the left of the steering component.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” She called to him. 

Din was happy to hear her voice had returned to its normal tone. Sugary sweet, but a clear twinge of sarcasm wrapped around each word. 

“Is it morning?” He inquired, and took a step forward to deposit the Child in the passenger chair.

Zakia shrugged. “Not sure. Anyway, I was plotting points on the Navicomputer for possible stops, but I figured your opinion is gonna be worth more than mine.”

The Mandalorian’s eyes swept across the dash and out through the passing stars. He paused at the telecom indicator- it was flashing bright blue against the console. “A message?”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize. Hold on a second, let me change screens.” Zakia set down the holopad she held, leaning into press play on the prompter. A hologram flickered to life, and Din felt his stomach lurch. 

_“My friends! If you are receiving this transmission, that means you both are alive… and you might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too.”_

Greef Karga’s tiny hologram stood with his hands on his hips, and Zakia mimicked the posture as she spun to Mando. 

“I thought you said you shot him?”

Din turned his helmet to her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes despite the fact she couldn’t see them. “I did.”

_“I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we’ve all spoken. The man who hired you, Mando, is still here and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards has grown. They have imposed despotic rule upon my city-”_

Zakia snorted. “His city?”

“Hush.” Din ordered, placing a glove over her mouth. 

_“-which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission- both of you- I can make it very much worth your time.”_

The blonde tried to open her mouth, but Din only clasped his hand tighter. There was no malice behind their actions, only a sense of humor that neither could explain. Zakia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, acting as a child as long as he treated her like one. 

_“You have been successful in staving off their hunters so far, but they will not stop until they have their prize. And if the rumors here are true- they have their eyes on two.”_

Zakia took that moment to bite down on Mando’s finger, and he sighed. “Din, they know.”

“Let’s listen before we panic.” He tried to keep his voice level, but let his hand drop down onto Zakia’s shoulder instead. 

_“So here is my proposition. Return to Nevarro. Bring the Child as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we all get what we want.”_ Karga readjusted, tipping his head as if someone was directing him out of view. _“If you succeed, you keep the Child and Zakia’s identity remains anonymous. I will have both of your names cleared with the Guild, for honorable hunters should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism.”_

The hologram disappeared, and Zakia spun the chair around until her knees were on either side of the Mandalorian’s. “Karga didn’t sell me out.”

“Doesn’t sound like it. But somehow they know.” Din tapped a boot on the floor as he considered their options. 

“You think we should go?” Zakia asked, fingers drumming along her knee. Her eyes flicked to the child who was still snoozing in the co-pilot seat. 

“I think that Karga’s right. We’ll never be off of their radar until they’re dealt with.” He answered. “But we can’t go alone. That’s a fool’s errand, and I don’t trust him.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Zakia nodded, “I’ve never seen Greef change his mind, and especially not after a shootout like the one we had. Maybe the Imps offered him enough to turn us in?” 

“That would be my guess. But if we can get in and get Karga and the Imps off our back…” Din looked to Zakia to confirm her understanding. 

“We’d be set.”

Ignoring the fact that it was much more difficult than either were willing to admit, Din was optimistic about their odds. He knew it would be stupid to go in alone, which was their only admitted problem at the time. They had faced the whole Nevarro Guild once before- with the help of the Mandalorians- but he wouldn’t doubt their force had been weakened considerably by Imperial presence. Stormtroopers were easy enough to deal with, but Din knew they would be outnumbered, outgunned, and most likely captured alone. 

Hence the reason he was putting the Razor Crest down on Sorgan, landing gear making a soft impact on the grassy planet. Cara Dune was one of the only people they felt they could trust while in their current predicament, though Zakia warned that Cara didn’t seem like someone eager to hop back into the war. 

“Oh, how I missed the grass…” Zakia leaped down the Crest’s ramp when they landed.

The Mandalorian carried the Child in one arm and Zakia’s scarf in another. His helmet was quirked to the side as he watched his partner lay in the grass and soak up the evening sun. 

“You done?”

Zakia curled her lip at him. “Don’t be a grouch. I’m just appreciating grass in case I never get to see it again.”

“Zak, it will be fine.” Din set the child onto the ground as it squirmed relentlessly against his hold. “If we get there and it’s not right, we’ll leave.”

She propped herself up on her elbows as the Child ran towards her as fast as its tiny legs could carry it. When it made it all the way to her, Zakia rolled away and smiled back at the kid. It squealed at her movement, excited for the chase. Mando chuckled as Zakia scrambled across the grass on hands and knees, stopping abruptly a few feet from him. 

“What?”

Din had been looking onto the small screen of his vambrace when Zakia’s squeaky tone filled his ears. His head snapped up, eyes watching the Child walk across the clearing. It had one hand held out in the blonde’s direction, and a smile on its face. Determination aside, the creature was obviously growing more tired as it moved. 

“Mando.” Zakia forced out between her teeth. “Mando? Help.”

It took Din a moment to realize what was happening. The Child was holding her in place, and Zakia was putting all her effort into staying calm. He rushed forward once his limbs began working, picking up the Child by its coat. Zakia instantly relaxed, and her eyes softened. 

“What were you doing?” Din didn’t expect an answer from the Child, but the scene had him worried. 

The baby stared into his viewfinder before whining pitifully, eyes filling with tears that spilled over onto his gloved hands. His whines morphed into full-out wails, sending birds flying from the trees and animals skittering across the forest floor. Din let out an exasperated sigh, looking to Zakia for help. She was watching the exchange with interest, eyes on the baby. 

“You made him cry, don’t look at me for help.” She offered no help, as sarcastic was her default. 

“I was trying to help you!” Din snapped back, holding the Child in the crook of his arm and rocking back and forth. His words to her only made the Child cry harder. 

“He wasn’t hurting me.” Zakia rubbed at her shoulder. “Just scared me.”

Din winced as the kid’s volume began to increase. “Wanna help me out, then?”

She smirked, eyes cutting down to the kid. “I don’t think he’s worried about me.”

He looked to the Child in his arms. The beast had been struggling about, but that was far from unusual. Though taking the time to look at him, Din realized exactly why he was so upset. The Child was straining up towards his helmet, little arms making grabbing motions at his cowl. He hid his face when Din’s visor pointed towards him, and Zakia laughed. 

“I think he wants to say sorry to Papa.” She smiled, nodding at the kid. 

Cheeks red- totally from the heat of his helmet, nothing else- Din lifted the Child until he was laying on his chestplate. The tiny claws scrabbled for purchase against his beskar, eventually twisting into his cowl until Din could feel the tips against his collarbone. The weeping halted almost immediately, and Din breathed a sigh of relief. BIg eyes peered up at him, still puffy from crying so hard. Din tipped his helmet down until the cool metal met the Child’s head, spurred on by an instinct that had been long dormant in his body. 

The Mandalorian knew, at that moment, that there was no way they would lose the fight on Nevarro. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating!
> 
> I've been going through some life stuff lately and have not had time to write as much. Add a healthy dose of SAD in there, and it's been a struggle. But hopefully this ties you guys over until I can get the next chapter out. It's a bit of a break before the season finale episodes, so I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Again, your favorites/follows/reviews make my day everyday <3


	17. Part XVII: Allied

Zakia poured spotchka for herself and Cara in the same tavern they had visited weeks ago. 

They had found the shock-trooper amidst a local crowd, brawling with a man much bigger than herself. Pleased wasn’t exactly the word Zakia would use to label Cara’s face when she saw them, and it set negative undertones for their coming conversation. 

“It seems like a straightforward operation.” 

She set the spotchka flagon in the middle of the table, using one hand to steady the Child as it hauled itself into her lap. Zakia was seated on Mando’s left, her knee brushing his so Cara felt she had enough room to be comfortable.

“They’re providing the plan and firepower. I’m the snare.” Mando explained to Cara. 

The dark haired woman shifted her eyes to Zakia, who only shrugged. She couldn’t refute Mando’s words, though the plan didn’t sit well with her either. Taking the Child into enemy territory while using the Mandalorian as bait? It was far from the contentedness Zakia and Din had been searching for since leaving Nevarro the first time. 

“With the kid.” Cara then turned her words to Zakia. “You’re okay with this?”

“That’s why I’m coming to you.” Din held up a hand, trying in vain to wave off some of Cara’s concern. 

While it was possible for Din and Zakia to keep up by themselves, having a second team to defend the Child made for better strategy on their part. If they both had to face off with Karga, there had to be a backup plan for escape. 

“I don’t know. I’ve been advised to lay low.” Cara snarked, tossing Din’s words from cycles ago back towards him. “If anybody runs my chain code, I’ll rot in a cell the rest of my life.”

“I thought you were a shock-trooper.” Zakia said, “A veteran.” 

A large, heavily-muscled man suddenly appeared, slapping a handful of credits onto the table near Zakia. She jumped, bumping none-too-gracefully into Mando’s pauldrons when she realized it was the guy Dune had been fighting with upon their arrival. Cara only smiled up at the man. 

“Come back soon.” Her voice was sweeter than Zakia had ever heard it, but her tone dropped as soon as the man was out of earshot. “I’ve been a lot of things since. Most of them all carry a life sentence. If I so much as book passage on a ship registered to the New Republic, I’m-”

“We have a ship.” Din cut in, leaning one elbow on the table to move closer. “We can bring you there and back.”

“With a hell of a payday.” Zakia added, readjusting her hold on the Child. It squeaked, and she loosened her grip. “You could live carefree here.”

“I’m already carefree. I’m not in the mood to play soldier anymore.  _ Especially  _ fighting some local warlord.” Cara finished her glass of spotchka, setting the cup onto the wood surface with a final  _ ‘clink’ _ . 

“He’s not a local warlord.” Her words had caught Din’s wavering attention. Zakia could see his helmet snap in her direction. “He’s Imperial.”

Cara looked between the hunters for a moment, brown orbs flicking down to the Child before returning to their faces. Her lips turned up at the edges, and she refilled her glass before lifting it. “I’m in.”

They hiked back to the Razor Crest after Cara took time to pack her weapons left on Sorgan. Zakia offered to help while Mando got the ship ready, and passed the kid off to him before following Cara into the woods. The shelter Cara had constructed wasn’t shabby, with four solid wood walls and canvas. 

“Is this..?” Zakia ran her hand over the canvas. 

“Yeah. I stole it from the raiders after you left. I took down the rest of them when they started attacking the villagers who were heading into town. Thought repurposing was worth it.” Cara passed a small bag to Zakia. The blonde shouldered it and stepped back into the woods, breathing in the fresh air. 

“I’m gonna miss this.” Zakia said, stretching in the sun as it peaked through the trees. 

“I do have your back. Both of you.” Cara assured. 

When they returned to the ship, Din was setting a sleeping child into its bassinet. Zakia brushed her hand over his wrist gently as she passed, showing Cara to the bunk they could spare for her. The ex-soldier placed her bags on the ground, examining the inside of the ship. 

“Pre-Empire, huh?”

Din closed the lid of the Child’s bassinet. “Almost undetectable.”

“Good choice.” Cara complimented. “Better than the accommodations I had before.” 

The trio made their way into the cockpit, Zakia using the bassinet’s gravitational tether to have it follow. She patched it to the co-pilot’s chair, leaning herself against the back of Din’s seat. The Mandalorian set a course for Nevarro, tapping away at the Navicomputer. Cara lingered in the back of the cabin, resting against the wall. A solid ten minutes of silence passed before anyone mustered the courage to break it.

“Does your contact need to vet me?” Cara inquired, elbow propping against the backup power component. 

“Doesn’t know you’re coming.” Din answered, flipping the final switch for auto-pilot. 

“Really? That could be a problem.” Cara raised a brow at Zakia, who lifted her shoulders. 

“We’ve got firepower.” The sniper provided a partially-satisfying answer, nudging her partner’s shoulder for reassurance. 

“It won’t. But if it is, that’s his problem.” Din rose from the pilot’s chair, nodding towards the ladder for the cargo hold. 

“You’re making me dizzy, darling.” Zakia teased. She made sure the Child was content in his bassinet before sliding down the ladder. Her boots hit the floor just after Cara was clear. 

“He’s alright up there alone?” 

Zakia tipped her head to the side and scrunched her nose. She mimicked weighing her hands about. “Yeah. Totally.”

Mando swept away their conversation as he opened the arms cabinet. Cara’s eyes lit up at the sight of their weapons. She reached a hand out to trace over Zakia’s new rifle, pulling various blasters and grenades from their place. 

“Pick one.” Din offered. He placed himself against the wall, giving Cara space to test out the weight of each weapon. Zakia positioned herself beside him, cracking her neck. 

“We’re gonna be okay.” She murmured. 

It was an empty reassurance- meant to relax the tense muscles of Din’s body. Zakia could see it as he fought to accept another person into the life they had kept so private. Though as things had been going lately, life was changing. It was evolving rapidly, and the duo was forced to accept people and  _ children _ into their life. A tumultuous past filled with death and anger had not set either up for a warm future. However, it seemed that the world had different plans than they had ever imagined. 

“Do you trust the contact?” Cara asked, eyes jumping from the array of blasters to the pair behind her. 

“Not particularly.” Mando admitted. “We had a run-in last time we were there on some Guild business.”

“So then why are we going?” Cara pressed on, and Zakia was surprised she was even on board. For all of her enthusiasm when it came to taking out Imperials, she had a lot of unanswered questions

“We don’t have any choice left.” Zakia toed at the steel floor, “You were on Sorgan when the hunter showed up. The Imps will keep sending them.”

“The kid will never be safe until the Imp is dead.”

Zakia’s head turned to Mando on its own accord. She knew he felt strongly towards the Child, but it was rare that he vocalized it. Especially in front of someone like Cara. 

“And you’re both okay with bringing him back there?” Skepticism punctured the soldier’s tone after Din’s statement. 

Zakia chewed on her cheek, using her had to rub at the knotted tissue. “Not really.”

“Again, that’s why you’re here.” The Mandalorian’s words were tired, and Zakia got the feeling that their short interlude between Mos Eisley and Sorgan hadn’t done much for his deteriorating sleep schedule. 

Cara acknowledged him with a cheeky nod that told Zakia she could sense exactly what he felt for the tiny green beast. 

“I think-  _ what the hell _ ?” Zakia was tossed into Cara as the ship lurched, knocking the blaster from the other woman’s hands. “Sorry. “ 

“What is that?” Cara staggered back to her own feet, and the women both took a moment to steady themselves. The Crest was whirring in a high-pitched fashion, and the ground hummed. 

Din was already scaling the ladder to the cockpit, cloak flitting about behind him. 

Cara and Zakia followed him closely, both arriving in the cabin as Mando pulled the child off of the console. His little hands had been gripping the steering controls, and proximity alarms were blaring as they neared a small asteroid field. Din gracelessly shoved the Child to Zakia, who held him loosely with both hands. The creature’s face stayed neutral despite the fact Zakia had been waiting for tears to start. 

“What are you doing, buddy?” Zakia chided, pointing a finger down at him. “You’ve never tried this before.”

Din was reconfiguring their course and turning off unnecessary machinery with rapid hands. The ship slowly began to settle, and he immediately guided them away from the incoming asteroids. When the cockpit quieted and the ride became smooth once again, he rotated in his chair to look at his passengers. Cara was wide-eyed and gripping a nearby handly, while Zakia held the Child carefully with a stern look on her face. 

“If we’re all going in, we need someone to watch that thing.” Cara waved in Zakia’s direction. The blonde tightened her jaw, but nodded. 

“She’s right.”

The Mandalorian dropped his head against the chair. “Yeah.”

“You got anyone you can trust?” The shock-trooper looked to the pair for answers, and they exchanged a look. 

“We might.”

* * *

Their agreement upon the subject of childcare had the mismatched group landing on Arvala-7 not five hours later. The red planet was sort of on their way to Nevarro, so a side-trip was not difficult to orchestrate. Din and Zakia’s options for trusted individuals were limited, and Kuiil was the only one they remotely had a chance with. 

The Ugnaught was waiting for them when they disembarked. He stood outside his hut with guarded eyes, a straight back, and a small smile. Zakia dipped her head in greeting, and all of them followed Kuiil into his home. It was small and familiar, and the memories of their last time there flooded Zakia’s mind. The Child seemed equally at ease, reaching for the Ugnaught’s face when they settled in the small sitting room. 

“It hasn’t grown much.” He observed, surveying the Child and its haphazardly-constructed bassinet. 

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.” Din replied, tipping his helmet towards the shorter man. 

Him and Zakia had discussed the possibility, but she wasn’t convinced. This Child was all too innocent and far too complicated to be an engineered being. While it would explain the abnormalities of aging, it didn’t make sense to her. If the Child was a clone, couldn’t the Imperials find the original source and make more?

“I don’t think it was engineered.” Kuiil grunted, examining the monster more closely. “I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looked too evolved. Too ugly.”

Zakia shifted in her place beside the Mandalorian, and Din’s hand brushed over her leg. 

“This one, on the other hand, looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora.” Kuiil motioned to Cara, and Zakia tilted her head. It was not the average compliment. 

“This is Cara Dune. She was a shock-trooper.” Din introduced. 

“You were a dropper?”

The question prompted a suspicious look from Cara. Zakia was not up to date on all the nuances from the war, and it seemed the Mandalorian was in the same boat. They both looked between the Ugnaught and their newest ally. 

“Did you serve?” She asked, posture growing defensive. Zakia felt the hair on her neck stand up at the exchange. 

“On the other side, I’m afraid.” Kuiil admitted. “But I’m proud to say that I paid out my clan’s debt, and now I serve no one but myself.”

Zakia admired his honesty. Most wouldn’t be inclined to admit an allegiance- even a past and involuntary one- to the Imps. She knew Kuiil was hardworking and passive about the solitude he lived in, but she never understood the extent until that moment. 

A mechanical clicking sounded from the entryway, and Zakia was the first to turn after breaking away from her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the droid folding itself into the hut, but Mando beat her to the punch. He leapt to his feet, pointing his blaster at the IG unit Zakia had shot dead all those weeks ago. Cara was on the offensive instantly as Mando’s alertness showed. 

“Zak.” 

“I’ve got him.” She was already reaching for the Child when the droid approached. She pulled him to her chest, and the Child accepted the comfort. He didn’t have good memories of the droid either. Din used his free hand to push her behind him, blaster not leaving the droid. 

“Would anyone care for some tea?” 

IG-11’s words undermined the tense air within the house. Kuiil rushed to Din’s side, reaching up to put a hand on his blaster. 

“Please lower your blasters. He will not harm you.” The Ugnaught attempted to assuage the hatred radiating from the Mandalorian. 

“That thing is programmed to kill the baby.” He spat. Zakia could feel the droid’s optical scanning her, and stepped closer to Din to hide the Child from view. 

“Not anymore.” Kuiil said. The Mandalorian looked to him and slowly lowered his blaster. Refusing to sit lower than the machine, Din remained standing. Zakia was still tucked behind him, and her fingers twisted in his cloak when he lowered the gun. 

“It was left behind in the wake of your destruction. I found it laying where it fell. Devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the charter of the New Republic.” Kuiil shrugged at his reminiscence. “Little remained of its neural harness. Reconstruction was quite difficult… but not impossible. It had to learn everything from scratch. 

“This is something that cannot be taught with the twist of a spanner. It required patience and repetition. I spent day after day reinforcing its development. With patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew.” 

Zakia peeked around the Mandalorian, though his arm kept her secure behind his armored body.  “Is it still a bounty hunter?”

“No. But it will protect.” Kuiil nodded at the droid, and it began to pour two glasses of tea. One was extended to Zakia, though the Mandalorian didn’t waver in his opposition to it coming near her. Kuiil sighed and took the glass, delivering it to Zakia himself. 

“You needn’t be afraid.” The Ugnaught asserted. Zakia caught his eyes and gave a short nod. She had faith in Kuiil, and if he said the droid was reprogrammed, she would take his word for it. There was no way she would trust the droid under any other circumstance, but she could give Kuiil that respect in his own home. 

“I have to feed the Bluurg. Make yourselves comfortable, please. Have some tea and relax. I’m sure you all deserve it.” Kuiil made to exit the hut, and IG-11 trailed behind him. 

Zakia felt tension bleed from her shoulders, and she looked at the Child. He only cooed happily up at her, as if this whole situation didn’t bother him. She supposed she was grateful for it, as having a riled up and wailing baby was much worse than a happy one. 

“I’m going to speak with him about joining us.” Din announced when only the trio of fighters remained. He took his blaster from its holster, tucking it in the waistline of Zakia’s pants. His hand lingered there for a moment. “Keep an eye out.” 

Cara watched them carefully, and turned to Zakia when they were the only ones remaining. The Child meandered about, tugging the blankets from his bassinet and rolling up in them tightly. He busied himself while the shock-trooper started speaking. 

“So what is the story. The whole story?”

Zakia lifted her head, eyebrows raised. She was in the midst of tying her hair into a tight bun when the question came. “Which one?”

“The  _ whole  _ story. You two and that thing. Why we’re here.” Cara clarified absolutely nothing, and Zakia sighed. 

“You’re asking for a long story.”

“I think we have time.”

Leaning against the wall, Zakia crossed her outstretched legs and faced the soldier. “Alright. Well, Mando and I met years ago. If it surprises you at all, we hated each other the first few times. We were competing in Guild, mostly for recognition. We were tied on money and bounties. I picked up a lot more outside jobs. Some, apparently, that I shouldn’t have. But we came to an agreement that working together occasionally was better than competing.”

“It usually is.” Cara commented. 

“Tell me about it. So, every now and then, we’d pick up a bounty and work together. I got my training mostly in long-distance shooting. I did a lot of confidential work. Assassinations and for-hire stuff outside the Guild. Mando was the confrontational one, so our styles kind of complimented each other.”

Zaki picked at loose threads on her jack, chuckling at her memories with the Mandalorian. 

“We worked a big job and caught a large bounty that was actually hiding on Nevarro, right under everyone’s nose. Had figured how to avert the tracking fobs signal, and it took the both of us to figure it out. After that, we split off again. Six or seven cycles later, we both tracked a bounty to some volcanic planet kind of like Mustafar. Which is the stupidest place to hide.” Zakia rolled her eyes at the thought. 

“I’ll say. A literal hell-hole.”

“You got it. Somehow- more likely just the result of greedy Guild agents- three tracking fobs had been issued. I got one, Mando got one, and some rogue Wookiee got one. We all ended up there at the same time. I caught the bounty, but the Wookiee was right behind me. You can guess how that fight ended up.”

Cara snorted. “The image is making me chuckle.”

“It was laughable. Thankfully, Mando showed up when he heard the struggle. Tried to help me out, but not the before the Wookiee did this shit to my face.” Zakia motioned to her scar. “It was bad. Deep and all the way through into my mouth. I was in shock and had a severe concussion. The Wookiee had wrecked my cruiser.”

Cara winced at the description of her injuries. “I have to be honest, I was wondering what it was from.”

“Most do, but I don’t mind anymore. It was a long time ago.” Zakia waved her off. 

“So after that, what? You just traveled together?” Cara pushed on, and a smile tugged at Zakia’s lips. 

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” The blonde shot back, one hand stabilizing the Child as it attempted to stand while wrapped in an absurd amount of blankets. 

“A lot of other things kill cats.” Cara shot back, “And I’d like to have an idea of who I’m dealing with.”

Zakia laughed, taking a sip from the still-warm cup of tea. “Alright. We started traveling together permanently. After my injury, it was incredibly difficult to look through a scope or sit still. My nerves were messed up for a long time. It took cycles just to be able to keep my eye all the way open on that side, so sniping was out of the picture for the immediate time frame.”

“And now you two are like…?” Cara made a rather inappropriate gesture with her hands, and Zakia snickered. 

“So these are the kind of details you were looking for?”

“Not exactly. I’m just messing with you.” The soldier chuffed at Zakia’s words and settled comfortably against the opposite wall. 

“Well, if we’re being quite honest, yes. Things get tense when you’re trapped in a ship together all the time. But that’s beside the point. We worked for years, and eventually got offered a hush-hush job on Nevarro. Which turned out to be.... All of  _ this.  _ Everything we’re going through is because of that job.”

“The kid was the job.” 

Zakia dipped her head. “Yeah. We picked him off this planet a few cycles ago. About a week before we met you.”

The mentioned Child squealed as he fell over, tumbling in his blanket cocoon. Cara smiled at him, and Zakia rolled her eyes. “And that’s it. Now we’re here.”

Cara took a moment to absorb everything Zakia had said, dark eyes scanning the blonde’s face for any signs of regret. “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?”

“I’m sure. More than I have been about anything.”

The shock-trooper grinned. “I know we didn’t get much time to develop it on Sorgan, but I think we’ll make a hell of a team.”

Zakia only smiled, clinking glasses with Cara before the men returned. 

  
  



	18. Part XVIII: Improbable

They departed for Nevarro as soon as possible. Kuiil had pursuaded Din to allow IG-11 and the Bluurg aboard, both which surprised Zakia to no end. She was endlessly amused by the Mandalorian's body language as Kuiil brought his own crew aboard.

Zakia was in charge of the controls for the first part of their journey, and she lifted them off of Arvala-7 and into hyperspace with ease. She climbed from the pilot's chair and clambered below deck, kicking off her boots as she neared the cargo hold. The Child cooed at her appearance, but was more focused on the sight across from him.

Mando and Cara were seated across from each other, a crate in between them as a makeshift table. Their palms were facing each other's, and Cara counted down from five before they clasped hands. Zakia laughed at them, placing herself behind Mando as the arm wrestling competition got underway. Both parties grunted with the effort, but Zakia could see Mando's arm wavering.

"I've got you, Mando." Cara managed, hair falling over her face.

The Mandalorian was right behind her teasing. "Care to double the bet?"

Zakia cocked a brow. "I don't know if that's a smart idea, honey."

"The peanut gallery needs to hush." Mando snapped playfully.

Zakia huffed a laugh, watching both sides struggle to victory. As Cara pushed the Mandalorian's arm further down, her arm twitched and she hesitated. Zakia was focused on tha table, and wasn't paying attention when she spoke up.

"What's with the reluctance, Ca- Cara? Cara?"

The shock-trooper suddenly jerked away from their match, both hands coming to grip at her throat. She choked, unable to get any words out. Zakia gripped Din's shoulder.

"What is-"

"No! No, no, no!" Din scrambled out of his seat, darting over to the bassinet.

Zakia watched in horror as the Child sat with one hand outstretched, fingers balled into a tiny fist. It was obviously the source of Cara's peril.

"Stop! We're friends, we're friends!" Din shook the Child once, and Cara sucked in a breath. Zakia rushed to the Child, catching Kuiil's eye as she did so.

"Cara is my friend!" Din was still yelling towards the Child when Zakia approached.

"That is _not okay!"_ Cara yelled when she got her breath back.

Zakia stared wide-eyed at Mando. "He froze me the other day. You think his power is growing?"

Mando shook his head, shoulders heaving. "I don't know."

"Hm. Very curious." Kuiil interjected, coming to stand next to Zakia.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaimed, weakly lunging out of her seat.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense." Kuiil ignored Cara's hostility,

"What is it?" Zakia asked, searching the Ugnaught's face for answers. "He did this to me yesterday. Not choking, but he used this power."

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this... this I've heard rumors of." Kuiil tapped the Child's head carefully. Zakia took him from Din, though didn't coddle him as usual.

"What? When you worked for the Empire?" Cara spat, still clutching at her neck. Zakia whirled on her at the comment.

"We are currently running from the Empire!" The blonde said.

Kuiil held up a hand. "When I was _sold_ to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

Cara managed to stand. "Yet somehow, you walk free."

Din tugged Zakia back towards him, and the Child squeaked. It could obviously sense the growing tension in the ship. "Stay out of it."

Zakia set her jaw and nodded, but didn't argue. It was no use making enemies with their allies.

"I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands. And the labor of three of your human lifetimes." IG-11 stepped into the room then, causing all of the occupants, sans Kuiil, to turn. "Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve."

Cara didn't respond to him, eyes fixed on IG-11's still form. The cylindrical head spun once, but made no other move. Din managed to break the tension, stepping forward and nudging Zakia with him.

"Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the Child can sleep better?" The Mandalorian tenderly lifted the Child from Zakia's arms and placed it in the bassinet.

Kuiil gave the container a quick once-over. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

Din nodded, and reached for his partner. "Excuse us for just a moment."

"I'll be up top." Cara told them.

Zakia nodded before following Din to their small quarters. "What's wrong?"

Din waited until the door slid shut. "Have you seen him do it before?"

"The Child? Not until he stopped me yesterday." Zakia replied, leaning against the edge of their bed. "Why?"

"Just wanted to be sure. If something happens on Nevarro, I don't want him trying to attack." Din rubbed at the back of his neck.

"You're tired." Zakia observed, taking a few steps to close the gap between them. "Have you not slept since our nap before Sorgan?"

He shook his head. "No time."

"You can't govern your life on time, Din. You know this." Zakia tried her best to be reassuring, but the coming events hung over their heads like an anvil ready to fall.

"I can't let anything happen to you." Din looked up, "to the Child."

Zakia smiled, pressing into his chest. She wrapped a single arm around his torso, fingers knotting together in his cloak. Din's arms fell to wrap around her shoulders, and he tipped his helmet to rest in her hair. Zakia reached behind him to swat the lightswitch, and darkness enveloped them. Even with her eyes open as wide as they would go, there were no shapes or colors visible.

Din had beaten her to the punch for her next actions; Zakia heard the pneumatic hiss of his helmet's release before she could lift her hands. He leaned to the side to set it on their bed, and returned to her arms shortly thereafter. She closed her eyes when his nose nuzzled into her hair, moving gently down until he rested in the crook of her shoulder. Zakia brought a hand up to rake through his hair, dropping a kiss where she could reach.

"We should go above deck." He muttered into her shirt.

"I'm sure Cara won't mind if you take a minute to recover." Zakia stroked the hair at his nape, smiling when she felt his lips against her neck. She leaned back, and sighed when his lips found hers.

"I love you." He said, nipping her bottom lip gently.

Zakia smiled against his mouth. "I know. I love you too."

* * *

After a lengthy conversation with Din about the Empire remnants on Nevarro, Cara had descended into the cargo hold to prep for their landing. Zakia was sitting cross- legged in the co-pilot's seat, and stood when they broke into Nevarro's atmosphere. Din imagined there was little left except the nub of her fingernails, as she had been gnawing on them since they left their quarters.

Din couldn't fight the fact that his anxiety was high when it came to this mission. If Karga was lying- which was likely- there were a lot of Guild members who would be happy to pull the trigger on him or Zakia. He was grateful when she rested her hand on his chair, waiting patiently for the ship to land.

"You ready?" He asked, standing from his seat once the landing gear was stable.

"Yeah. Are you?"

The Mandalorian stood to his full height, dwarfing his partner. "As I'll ever be."

They descended below deck, where Cara and Kuiil had already mounted their Bluurg. Standing at the ready near the ramp, Din pressed the release and helped Zakia onto theirs. Shaking off the week's events, he hauled a leg over the animal and pulled himself up. The Child was in its new bassinet, which was rather reminiscent of the original one they found him in.

Nevarro was exactly as Din remembered, with rocky ground and a generally desolate atmosphere. They were in the middle of the flats, with the small bazaar far away in the distance. Zakia had a hand resting on his hip, hidden beneath his cloak. The new rifle he had purchased during their time in Mos Eisley was strapped over her shoulder, as well as her dual blasters and a spare on her ankle. Zakia was armed to the teeth, and it sent a wave of reassurance through Mando as they faced their old colleague.

"Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando. But things have gotten complicated since you were last here." Greef Karga was flanked by three hunters, all of which Din was unfamiliar with. Nonetheless, they didn't exactly exude amicability. "It appears that introductions are in order."

None of them replied. They stood as one silent front, and the intimidation factor seemed to be working as Karga continued.

"It seems we've both provided a security detail." Greef sighed, and finally lifted his hand to point at Cara. "I recommend the shock-trooper guards the ship. These lava fields are lousy with Jawas."

Zakia's fingers squeezed through his clothes. "She comes with us." Din asserted.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up."

"She's coming." Zakia reiterated Mando's words, glaring around his body at Greef.

"Fine. Fine. At least cover your tattoo. No need to flaunt it." Karga opened his arms and made a hard left in conversation topics. "Now, where is the little one?"

Their alliance all traded looks before Mando deemed it their best move. He lifted his vambrace and punched in the bassinet's access code. The domed object hovered to Karga, and the lid separated to reveal the baby. Zakia's hand left his hip to rest over her blaster, and Mando maintained his position to conceal her.

"So this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about." Karga reached into the cradle, gingerly examining their charge. "What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head."

The Child was lowered back into the bassinet, and Zakia's fingers slunk away from the blaster to return to Mando's hip.

"Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all." Their former boss set his hands on his hips as the cradle hissed and closed. Din turned the tether back on, and the pram floated back to their side. "The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light."

After it was agreed upon, Karga and his men led the trio of Bluurg and their riders across the lava flats. It was much easier traversing the terrain on the animal's backs, and Din was thankful for Kuiil's insistence on bringing them. The atmosphere surrounding the group was tense, made even more so by the conspicuous glances Karga's lackies sent in Din's direction.

"They're going to try and kill us." Zakia's right hand was holding tightly onto Mando's cuirass, the other wrapping itself into his tunic. "Take the reward for themselves."

Din tipped his head to the side. "I know. They don't stand a chance."

The caravan continued on into in the night. True to Karga's word, they lost light fast. Zakia wished they would have made it closer to town, but supposed some distance between the Imperials and them wasn't a bad thing to have. Karga's help built a small fire, and one ventured off into the night only to return with a large slab of meat. Zakia wasn't keen on the unknown product, but sustenance was necessary for their trip.

Battle stories were not told around this campfire. Everyone sat silently, pretending to be relaxed. Each separate faction formed their own half-circle. Cara sat at the far end of theirs, then Kuii, the Child, Zakia, and Din. Karga formed the end of his group, though he sat a mere foot from the Mandalorian. Kuiil fed the Child, who squeaked happily upon each delivery. Zakia kept her eyes on the mangy-looking hunters across the fire, even when she lifted bites of meat to her mouth.

"Looks like the little bugger's a carnivore." Greef said, pointing a shaky finger at the Child. "Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of high-falutin' menagerie."

Zakia rolled her eyes, peering around Mando's body to look at their old boss. "You never did like silence, Karga."

Din remained focused on the fire, though Zakia knew his eyes were following every movement in the group. "Let's go over the plan again."

Karga sighed, and Zakia leaned back to prop herself onto her elbows.

"We both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And one of you kills him."

Zakia raised a brow, doing her best impression of a rabid lothcat while trying to gnaw on the tough meat they roasted. "And there's no reinforcements? Even if I'm stationed a couple hundred meters away, when he goes down..."

"They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, _poof!_ They'll all scatter." Greef sounded unconcerned, but the Mandalorian was not convinced.

"What if they stick around?" Zakia asked, adjusting the rifle as it lay next to her.

"They won't"

"That's not good enough." Even modulated, his tone was clear.

"If- for argument's sake- a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock-trooper will cut down anyone who bucks. And I don't recall many getting past your partner in the past."

Finishing her piece of tough meat, Zakia reclined on the small bedroll until her back was lying in the dirt. She gazed up at the starless sky, watching as pale streaks of gray clouds passed over. Din continued to drill Karga on their plan. He assured the Mandalorian there would be no more than four guards - a fire team- with the Client.

Zakia blinked lazily, and tried to keep her body from trembling with anticipation. Her and Mando had yet to work out the precise details, but she was confident her partner would want her far away from the Imps. It would be easy to find a building with a clear shot into the Imperial hideout, but the hard part was remaining undetected. If Karga was right, the job would be simple. If he was wrong however, they were in for a long day.

Eyes searching for Din's familiar figure, Zakia tugged on his cloak so the others wouldn't notice. He shifted in a way that acknowledged her prod for attention.

"You okay?"

The helmet falling forward in the front was her only answer, and Zakia allowed her hand to remain on his cloak as she turned to the sky. The few clouds illuminated by Nevarro's dull moon were nothing more than wisps, so Zakia froze upon spotting an opaque shape move across her field of vision. She lifted her head sharply, trying to follow the shape. Blue eyes tracked across the darkness, and faintly picked up on another shape. This one was larger, and was flying from behind the other group towards the fire. Zakia thought it to be scavenger birds at first, but squinted when the shap seemed to pick up speed as it neared the group. Karga was about the reach the roasting hunk of meat when she called out.

"Greef, _get down!"_ Zakia was just in time, as the beast swung down to steal the meat.

It was incredibly large, and the force of its pass knocked Greef from his feet. The Mandalorian ducked to the side, arm falling to the far side of Zakia's body. A screech prompted him to stay there, chestplate rhythmically ramming into Zakia's back until she elbowed him.

"We have to move, there's- _more!"_ Zakia pushed against his cuirass, leaping to her feet as Cara began firing out shots from an automatic blaster. The Mandalorian and his partner wasted no time drawing their own weapons. Zakia slapped the button to close the Child's pram, allowing Mando and Kuiil to cover her as she turned her back.

It was far too dark to make sense of anything between the dust and darkness. The group's movements were lit only by the light of their fire and their blasters. Zakia had just got her bearings when Kuiil's shouts echoed across the flat plains.

"No, let go of her! Drop her now!" They were shouts of anguish, and Zakia was horrified to see the beasts lifting one of their Bluurg off the ground.

The group's blasts began to focus in on the offending creature, but it was long gone before they had a chance. A brief bout of silence followed, and Zakia offhandedly glanced to ensure the Child was safe.

_SCREECH._

Something heavy impacted Zakia's back with enough force to toss her to the ground. Her blaster tumbled from her hand, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her exposed neck to protect it. More yelling and firing reached her ears, but she was glued to the rocky ground. Another body was tossed down next to her, and Zakia was battered with gusts of wind that whipped gravel into her face. Some part of her fuzzy brain recognized the clanking of Din's armor, and then the familiar feeling of his hand on her back. There was a blast of heat above her head, and Zakia tightened the arms protecting her neck.

"Zakia." The Mandalorian's voice was measured. Calm, but urgency pressed into his tone.

He had seen Zakia get knocked down. When one of Karga's hunters was swiped from safety, his legs took her feet from the ground as the beast flew away. Protecting herself was the best option at that point- these creatures were clearly smart.

"Is it over?" She still had her arms locked around her neck, and Din's helmet fell forward in relief.

"Yes. They're gone. You just got knocked down when one took off. You're fine." The Mandalorian wrapped his hands around her arms and hauled her up, allowing her a moment to get her feet back.

" _Shit."_ She cursed, "I saw them coming, I just didn't know what they were." Her body moved almost thoughtlessly to the Child's cradle, where she pressed the lid release. Zakia's hands lifted the baby, holding him tightly to her chest. "It's alright, kiddo."

Mando took stock of the remaining group. Cara was lowering her blaster, and Kuiil looked rather distraught. But it was a groaning from his left that caught Din's attention. Karga was on the ground, clutching at his forearm. Zakia followed his gaze, tongue pressing against her teeth as they all approached.

Kuiil was the first one there, followed by Cara. Din and Zakia approached after, and the blonde shook her head as she looked into the corner of his visor. Greef's arm had four gashes in it, infection sizzling outwards like hot grease.

"Poison." Zakia set her jaw, kneeling beside Kuiil.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine." Karga protested their doting until Zakia pressed on a tender spot. "Ow!"

"Hold still." Cara ordered. "They got you good"

Zakia let Cara take over the care, unsure of how to proceed. She had bandaged Din up more times than she could count, but poison was something she had never experienced. The shock-trooper fumbled in her belt, withdrawing a small med pack with a long needle. She gave Karga the first infusion, eliciting a wheeze from the injured party.

"How bad?" The Mandalorian asked, leering over Cara's shoulder.

"Bad." Cara confirmed. "The poison is spreading fast."

Greef squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily in measured bouts to maintain his composure. "So… this is how it happens?"

Cara, ever the lifesaver in these situations, looked at the Guild agent. "Don't be so dramatic." She looked to the other hunters. "I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?"

A chorus of shaking heads later, the air grew tense. Zakia shifted uncomfortably, hands pawing aimlessly at the Child's robes. Normally a stoic figure, she found herself perturbed at Karga's situation. As if sensing her discomfort, the baby in her arms shifted, wiggling wildly in an attempt to leave her arms.

"Hold on." Zakia leaned down to allow the Child to stand on the ground. Knowing he had a tendency to hover within reach of the Mandalorian, she let her eyes wander back to Cara.

"It's still spreading. This isn't working." Cara held the med scanner in one hand, and paused when the now-free Child approached her side. She turned to Kuiil. "Get this thing outta here."

The Child extended a hand then, catching the attention of everyone surrounding Greef's supine form. Kuiil urged them to leave him be, and everyone watched warily as the tiny green creature stretched towards Greef.

"He's trying to eat me." Karga whined. Zakia snorted, nudging Mando in a weak attempt at lightening the mood.

More than a few seconds passed before anything changed. The Child laid his hand on Greef's arm and closed his eyes. Zakia could see the concentration on his tiny face, and gripped the crook of Din's elbow when their ex-boss's skin began to knit itself back together. The poisoned flesh reverted back to smooth skin from its blistered state, and even Greef seemed surprised as his pain slipped away.

The baby shook with the effort, eventually falling backwards onto his bottom. Zakia hustled towards him automatically, sweeping his exhausted form from the dirt. No one spoke, only stared at the unmarred flesh of Karga's arm. The shock was clear, and the uncertainty surrounding the tiny quarry skyrocketed.

Zakia only focused her wide eyes on the baby in her arms, whispering a silent prayer for the hours to come.


	19. Part XIX: As Above, So Below

Zakia was not expecting both of Greef Karga's remaining men to fall dead when blasters were drawn.

If she was being honest, she expected to be the dead one. Kuiil was safe on the last Bluurg several yards behind her, while Din and Cara both had some armor to protect their chests.

They had just made it to a ridge overlooking the town when Greef paused and sighed aloud. The trio on their feet had all tensed, and Zakia could see the hunters moving in her peripherals. Everyone had blasters drawn by the time Karga had fired and, in hindsight, it was a comical sight. Her, Din, and Cara all stood at the ready, muzzles pointed to Karga.

The Guild boss instantly relented, lifting his hands in surrender. Din straightened from his defensive position, and Zakia slowly lowered her dual blasters. Her sniper rifle hung at her shoulders, its presence a comforting weight.

"There's something you should know." Greed said, walking between Cara and Mando. Zakia took a step forward to be at Din's side, slipping both guns back into their holsters. Karga continued wordlessly, kicking blasters away from their fallen owners. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid."

Zakia lifted her shoulders. "Shocker."

" _But,_ after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it." Greef's gaze bounced back and forth between Din and Cara, trying to gauge their reactions. "Go on. You can gun me down right here and now and it wouldn't be a violation of the Guild code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

As much as she wanted to speak up and say that was her desire, Zakia couldn't bring her mind around to it. Karga had indeed violated their trust- not that there was any to begin with- but he had killed his own men. She knew first-hand the effect their tiny charge had on others, and it seemed his innocence had won their old boss over as well. Zakia noticed Kuiil seemed to share her sentiment, as the Ugnaught watched the tense exchange with stony eyes.

"We'll take our chances." Cara spat, and Zakia opened her mouth briefly before snapping it shut again. She didn't want to make such a staunch declaration like Cara, but knew somewhere that the Mandalorian would trust her.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef held his hands out, motioning to their surroundings.

"This is ridiculous." Cara hissed at Din and Zakia. The latter grit her teeth, forcing herself to gather the words she needed.

"He might be right." Zakia blurted.

Din's helmet swung towards her at the same time Cara did. An grimace was stretched across the shock-trooper's face, almost accusatory as it was directed at Zakia.

"Perhaps you should let him speak." Kuiil saved Zakia from having to form an explanation, but she kept her eyes on Din's visor nonetheless.

The Child was going to be in danger until the client was dead, and they all knew it. They could run, but for how long? It was only a matter of time before a run in went wrong, or there wasn't a second person in the trees to kill their pursuers.

"Listen. We both need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the Child to him. And then you three-"

"No." Din cut into Karga's new plan, silencing him before he had a chance to finish.

"Let's just kill him and get out of here." Cara urged.

Zakia's head snapped in her direction. As much as she had respected the shock-trooper's instinct on Nevarro, this situation was being tugged in the opposite direction. She knew Cara was worried about her chain code and the implications of it being ran. But she knew the risk when she boarded the Razor Crest, and it irked Zakia she wanted to run. They were all wanted, and would most likely end up dead if they were caught in an ambush attempt.

But if they were caught running with the Child one day, they would all be dead.

"No offence, because you're a great friend, but I think you worrying about your chain code is clouding the current state of the mission, Cara. You know, it's not that hard. If you want to leave- _go_. If Kuiil and I are the only ones that can see there is actually a point being made here, fine." Zakia stepped forwards, and Din dropped his blaster once she was in its path. "We can run now, but it will only be a matter of time before it happens again, and again, and _again."_

Cara looked to be preparing a rebuttal, but Din straightened suddenly and holstered his blaster. "Karga is right."

"What are you doing?" The shock-trooper looked at Mando, still pointing her blaster towards Greef.

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the Child." Din explained. Zakia nodded, hoping her eyes were conveying thanks to his.

"It's a trap." Cara reiterated, blinking from Zakia to Mando.

"Bring me." Din offered.

"Bring you?" Zakia squeaked the words at the same time Karga spoke them.

"Tell them you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him." The Mandalorian's voice was steady, and Zakia could find no indications of mistrust in his body language. "You said he's stationed where your tavern used to be. There's a high chimney that climbs one of the buildings about three hundred meters away from the bar window. Zakia can set up with the rifle there as backup."

Zakia swallowed at the thought of Mando diving headfirst into the Imperial hideout. Her only reassurance was their last out facing the Imperials, where the troopers prooved more incompetent than any she had seen. However, this time he had betrayed the client. He was wanted, and there was a bounty hanging high over his head. Her own conflicts with the Imps were of little consequence- if they couldn't find out her name, how was she going to be indicted of any crime?

"That's a good idea. Give me your blaster."

Mando did so wordlessly, and turned to Zakia. "Can you get in?"

Zakia swung the rifle over her shoulder and used the scope to check for unguarded sections of the wall that surrounded the bazaar. There was a crumbling slat to the right of the entrance and around a corner, and she was sure it would make an easy entrypoint.

"Yeah."

"This is insane." Cara protested yet again.

"It's the only way." Din argued.

"Well- I'm coming with you." The shock-trooper relented, but she sounded far from happy.

"No, no no." Karga held up a hand. "That would make them suspicious."

"I don't care. I'm coming." And now the attitude had flipped.

"Tell them she caught him." Zakia said, lowering the rifle. "More likely than you. No offense."

"Fine. Then she can bring the Child." Karga tried to reason, but the entirety of their team opposed it.

"No. The kid goes back in the ship." Din asserted, looking to Kuiil. He ignored Karga's protests. "I have a plan. Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the Child, and seal yourself in. When you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

The Ugnaught was already walking forward. "Here is a comlink. I will keep the Child safe." He paused, looking up at Cara. "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

With his words hanging in the air, Cara did just that. The Mandalorian stepped towards Greef, fingers brushing by Zakia's hip. "I trust you." His words were barely a whisper, slipping out beneath the modulator and rushing over Zakia like a warm wash of water.

"I know."

"Let's go."

* * *

Making her way around the bazaar's wall was simple. Zakia had done it plenty of times, sneaking around when her and Mando were younger, to mess around in the dark nights after she had too much to drink. The memories were her only comfort then, her legs screaming as she crept along the ground.

At the small break in the wall, she stopped to survey it. She switched her scope to thermal and directed it towards the bazaar, checking for any signatures that could belong to troopers. There was movement all about the town, but nothing indicating a hostile presence near her.

"Hey!"

Zakia whirled around, coming face to face with the exact type she had been trying to avoid. Her eyes widened as he reached for a blaster, white armor gleaming in the sun. To her relief, he failed to signal for help.

"What are you doing outside the wall?" He demanded.

Sliding an innocent look onto her face, the blonde forced her limbs to relax. "I was just-" She motioned at the flats. "Hunting.

She imagined the man beneath the obnoxious-looking helmet would be rolling his eyes. "Chain code?"

Now that, she didn't have with her. "Sure thing. Give me just a minute to find it, would you?"

The trooper sighed. "Make it quick."

He hitched his hands onto his hips, head swiveling back in the direction of the entrance to town. Zakia did her best impression of a scared woman, shuffling through her pockets one by one until the Stormtrooper looked in the right direction.

With his head turned far enough behind him, Zakia slipped a hand to her boot and forced herself to move as fast as she could. She drew the knife that was always sheather in her leg, jerking straight up and plunging the blade through the trooper's throat. She jumped out of the way of the blood splatter, yanking the vibroblade back with her.

"Damn."

Zakia shook out her hands, and wiped the blade clean before turning back to the wall. She braced her hands on the rock surface before hesitating and turning back towards the man on the ground. She considered him for a moment before biting her lip and stepping back, nearing his fallen body.

It took only a few moments to figure out how the armor went together, and Zakia quickly stripped him of it. She snatched the boots- big enough to go over her own petite ones, and dragged all the items on clumsily. It fit loosely over her own clothing, but the armor was easily tied tighter.

The entire process only took a few minutes, and Zakia ignored whatever the man's face looked like when she took the helmet from his head. She wrapped her head scarf around her face and placed the helmet over her head, feeling every ounce like she was defiling something sacred within herself.

"Awesome." She surveyed her own appearance best she could, and proceeded to haul her body over the V-shaped crack in the wall.

Zakia's rifle clattered uncomfortably against the white armor, but she pressed on until the chimney Mando mentioned came into view. While she wasn't exactly hiding, she didn't want to have a confrontation either. Her costume change served as camouflage, but not as a promise of escape.

"How the hell- oh hello." Zakia muttered to herself as she sought out a way to get herself onto the roof. There was a narrow alley between two buildings, and Zakia crept into it from the darkened alley. The normally bustling town was oddly silent, and she found herself at odds with the lack of noise.

Thankful for her vertically-challenged status, Zakia's limbs were the ideal length to fit in the crevice. They provided her with a quiet and easy solution to scale the wall. She used both hands outstretched and legs to crawl up like a spider, snorting at the image of a Stormtrooper doing so. She hauled herself onto the correct rooftop and then up its water tower, which was placed just to the left of the chimney- far enough that she could easily roll to the side and be hidden. Zakia was unaware of Din's sources on that particular bit of knowledge, but she was thankful he had it nonetheless.

From her vantage point, the main drag was clear. Zakia rushed to set up her rifle, turning the thermal on to check the tavern. Sure enough, there was a trio just inside the door that looked to be Din, Cara, and Karga. Zakia sighed, watching carefully through the scope as they were apparently ushered further in. There were several other heat signatures present, and Zakia switched off her thermal when they all became visible in the long window behind the bar. It was translucent, but in a way that made individual figures apparent in the daylight.

"I don't like this." She muttered to no one in particular.

Minutes ticked by, throughout which Zakia flicked the scope from thermal to normal, to infrared with no winners between the three. Four figures now sat at the table inside the bar; the fourth she assumed to be the client. She noticed the enumerated Stormtroopers, and was annoyed at Karga's mention of four the previous night. This was closer to a whole platoon outside the hideout alone.

Zakia pulled the helmet from her head and made sure to cover her hair before looking back through the scope. When she did so, one of the figures that had been at the table previously stood, wandering to the bar. The frame and posture was unfamiliar- to broad to be Karga, and too hunched to be the Mandalorian. No curves to indicate it was Cara. She placed the crosshairs on the figures head, breathing in deeply. She waited a moment before placing her finger on the trigger, and another moment before applying any pressure.

The rifle was primed and seconds away from firing a shot when the sounds of footsteps drew Zakia's attention away. It was a large number of people moving, and she was horrified when she lowered the rifle.

Outside the tavern window was a squad of Death Troopers.

Their black armor reflected the sun in a sickly green fashion, and they all had wide-barrel blasters raised and aimed at the window. Zakia no time to think when they began shooting round after round through the window. She gasped audibly, and forced herself to refrain from sound. As long as people were still fighting to get to Mando and the group, the Child must be safe.

The sniper lowered her eyes back to the scope, searching for the three signatures that would come from Din and their crew. She was thankful to find just that, spotting the blue spot of cold that was Din's cuirass. Zakia was considering her options- spoiler, there weren't many- as a hovering, armored vehicle offloaded a full platoon of troopers onto the street.

Zakia didn't dare to try and contact Mando's com unit- the Imperials had a reputation for intercepting signals, and would not be party to it. She just bit her lip and watched, unsure of the next possible move.

' _WHOOSH'._

Zakia ducked her head down, mind flashing back to the winged beast from the previous night. A thunderous noise bore down on the town, and Zakia prayed whatever it hadn't spotted her on the way down. As it sped into view, her stomach twisted all over again.

A TIE-fighter was landing behind the armored vehicle, setting up a display of violent opposition to whatever little opportunity was left for escape. The circular top hissed open, but its position with respect to Zakia blocked her from being able to get a mark on the target. The craft blocked most of her view, and the blonde cursed. She had to get to the tavern.

Zakia scrambled down from her position as quietly as she could, slipping the Stormtrooper helmet back on when she made it to the ground. She searched around the ground, trying to figure out a way to the tavern. Zakia knew there was no back door, and getting across the main street would be impossible regardless.

"Damn." Zakia paced the alleyway, trying to think of any possible solution. There was no way for her to get back with her team, and there was no way she would be able to wipe out an entire platoon without being captured.

Searching the ground for any sign of hope, Zakia slung the rifle to her front. The Mandalorians had a covert in the bazaar, and she had never seen one before. They had to transverse the town somehow, and she doubted it was by jetpack.

"How…" Zakia leaned near the door of a small building, and paused as her eyes drilled holes into the dirt. "The _sewers."_

Nevarro was, underneath, a lava-formed planet. It was always hot, and the heat from the planet had to be channeled out. The only sensible way to keep it from building below the town was to channel it out. Zakia understood that homes were heated during the cold night, and the realization struck her then.

She turned to the door, knocking briefly. No answer came, and she edged it open slowly, effectively avoiding any creaking. It was a dimly lit dwelling, with an empty dinner table and kitchen area. The blonde wasted no time hustling in, and followed the seam of the wall. The grate for their heating had to be somewhere near, and Zakia needed to move.

The tinny sound of an amplified voice reached her ears, but it was too far to discern anything other than harsh syllables. "Come on, come on…."

Zakia found herself in a small bedroom before she located her target. It was tucked beneath the bed, and would be just barely wide enough to squeeze herself through. The bolts holding it in place looked old, and her vibroknife was put to use as she sliced through the brittle metal.

"Oh, thank the Makers for code violations." Zakia pulled the rifle from her shoulder and pointed its flashlight into the hole. It was dark for a few feet, but the concrete beneath was visible.

Zakia shed her armor and lowered the rifle down first, extending her arm to the full length so her gun only dropped a foot. Inhaling deeply, she dangled her legs in and allowed her body to slip down. It was incredibly claustrophobic, and her ass almost got stuck on a lip of concrete, but Zakia managed to tumble not-so-gracefully to the ground.

"Shit." She breathed upon impact.

Fortunately, she managed to keep her bearings directionally. Zakis shouldered the gun and took off in the direction she assumed the tavern was, keeping her ears open. As she neared a junction that could only be of the main pathway, she paused.

There was a sound echoing through the chambers, and Zakia was forced to cover her ears. It was shrill and familiar, and she forced herself to look up. She knew that sound...

"A speeder…"

Zakia recalled seeing a few outside the wall, and two through the scope. She doubted any civilians were authorized to leave, and the thought brought her to a conclusion.

A speeder meant one of two things:

1) Someone was coming to help them

_Or_

2) The Imperials had captured the Child.

And Zakia had a sinking feeling it was the latter.

* * *

Din wasn't sure when he came back to consciousness.

His limbs were heavy, and he was on the ground. Cloudy eyes blinked lazily beneath his helmet, and the resounding vibration from its impact seemed to reverberate constantly.

' _CONCUSSION'_

Din's brain screamed at him, but it acted as if no signals could leave it. He felt someone grab him-drag him to safety. Away from the Imps, and away from Moff Gideon. The tavern door rushed closed, and Din was propped against an overturned table. Blood trickled into his mouth and down his neck, through the stubble he hadn't had time to shave.

He wished he could feel his legs, or his arms. Something to solidify the fact he was actually awake. Everything was submerged to him, swimming in a sea of red and brown.

The sea.

It was something he hadn't seen in years. Since before the Child, and before he had ever taken the bounty from Karga. Someone else had been on the beach with him, and his brain clung to the memory as it scrambled to stay afloat in the waves of his mind.

-

" _Oh, Mando. It's beautiful."_

_Zakia was standing beside him, bare feet dug deep into the sand. The Mandalorian sighed, shaking out his boots._

" _It's going to look really beautiful on the floor of my ship." He returned, nudging the blonde._

_Her hair was gorgeous, as it always appeared to him. It was beauty in its most natural form- curls bouncing around her shoulders and coiled more tightly than normal because of the humidity rolling off the ocean. Zakia turned to him with a smile, though only the left side of her face lifted. The right was still wounded, pink flesh just beginning to regain its function. Dark tissue lined the outside of her newest battle scar, and he could tell it pained her to smile._

_In a newfound gesture of affection- they were doing that now- she leaned into his side. They had been traveling together for a few months after her injury, and had grown closer than Din thought he was capable of. Zakia was almost completely dependent upon him at first, and had grown distant once she was independent again. But nightmares plagued her, and they couldn't stay far apart on a ship that was barely made for two people. So they relied on each other. Din had someone to talk to about missions, and Zakia had someone to help her with basic tasks that she was unable to complete alone anymore._

_He enjoyed the company. More than he ever thought possible. The closeness was something he had not felt since being a boy, and he reveled in Zakia's occasional contact._

" _Is this okay?" She murmured._

_Unbeknownst to her, Din was content. Putting on a face about the sand, but that was his job._

" _It's great." Din allowed Zakia freedom as she turned further into him. She tucked her arms to her chest and pressed her face to his side. His arm lifted to hold her gently by the waist._

" _Thank you for bringing me here, Mando." Zakia spoke, her voice muffled by his shirt._

" _Uh... " He trailed off, unsure how to continue. "Din."_

" _Sorry?" Zakia looked up at him, all blue eyes and sunshine._

" _My name. It's Din." He kept his gaze on the ocean, though his cheeks felt hot beneath his helm._

" _Thank you." Zakia didn't push the topic or inquire on his reasoning. She just let him be, and they took in the sights together._

" _Don't wear it out."_

 _Zakia snorted, lifting her head from his cuirass. "You got it,_ Mando."

-

"Mando!"

" _Mando!"_

"Is he-"

"It's our only path-"

"Clear it!"

The voices came in bursts, and Din's brain protested the change of subject. The oceanside memory had been warm, and his body was cold. But the voice from his dream was there, and it dragged Din back to the surface.

"...Zak?"

"Oh, Thank Maker." The voice was far away, and Din's hand flopped uselessly on the ground. "Where?"

"I'm here, don't worry. I'm fine." Zakia's voice was close, but he could hear the concern.

"Good." He choked on what was probably his own blood, and did his best to push it down. Another face came into his view, this one with dark-hair.

Cara.

He could remember the Imps and the E-Web. The fight. But not how it ended. Din could recall the worry he'd felt about his partner, which was partially soothed as he heard her voice.

But he could barely breathe.

As his brain came back into contact with his body, the pain in his chest and stomach became more apparent. It hurt to pull in each breath. Cara was still hovering over him, and he weakly tilted his helmet towards her when she spoke.

"Zakia found the tunnels in the sewer you mentioned. She's stuck on the other side of the grate- Karga's trying-"

"I'm not gonna make it." He breathed. "Go- make Zak go with you. She d-doesn't need to be here."

"Shut up. You just got your bell rung, you'll be fine." Cara was leaning over him, eyes darting behind her every so often. He could hear a faint hissing sound, but what exactly it was escaped him.

"Cara? How is he?"

"Leave me." Din kept his voice low to avoid Zakia's detection. Wherever she was stuck waiting to be freed, she didn't need to hear. Cara noticed the blood on his cowl and he was thankful she managed to keep a straight face.

"You have too much to lose, buddy. I'm gonna need to take this thing off." Cara reached for his helmet, and Din batted her hands away.

"No. You leave me. Zakia will understand, she-she has to. You two make sure the Child gets out safely. Here."

Through a wheeze he ripped the Mythosaur pendant from its resident place on his neck. Normally it remained hidden beneath his cowl, but it was important for their escape.

"Cara!" Zakia called once again over the hissing sound, but Karga was hushing her. They couldn't be heard.

"When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that. Zak doesn't know where it is… but you show them that and tell them its from Din Djarin. Tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you." Din's thoughts were far from coherent, but the connotations of their current situation hung on his shoulders.

"We can _make it."_ Cara urged him.

Din noticed an encroaching heat, but his brain was far from acknowledging the danger.

"Protect the Child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death." He knew Cara could respect the last bit. She was a warrior too.

"I won't leave you. And if you think Zakia will, you're out of your mind."

"This is the Way."

Deafening rumbles came from both their front and backs at the same time. A Stormtrooper- this one emblazoned with red stripes down the middle of his armor, breached the door with a smoldering flamethrower. It spewed fire, and Cara covered Din with her own body. Another scraping sound to his left drew his attention, and Din exhaled heavily when he felt familiar hands on his arms.

Zakia didn't have a chance to speak before the Stormtrooper lifted his flamethrower and pointed it at their faces. Her and Cara exchanged a glance over his helmet- as if he couldn't make logical decisions anymore- and ducked down. Din flinched out of pure instinct, and braced himself for what was sure to be a painful death, made even more so by the presence of his loved ones.

To his surprise, death hadn't reached them after a few seconds. Din blinked wearily, tipping his head forward to take in the tiny Child standing before them. Its tiny arms were outstretched, and a ball of fire spun in the air. It was motionless , only turning on itself as it remained in one place. It only moved when the baby thrust his arms forwards. The resounding explosion sent the Stormtrooper flying, and all three near the overturned table winced.

The Child then fell to his rear, exhausted from the ordeal.

"Come on! It's open, let's go!"

Karga was standing behind Din somewhere, but he couldn't turn his head to see. Cara looked at Zakia, who nodded curtly. The warrior stood, hissing something at the IG-11 droid positioned behind all of them. She placed a brief hand on Zakia's shoulder and moved away, leaving them alone as she scooped up the Child as well.

Zakia then focused her attention on him. "Din…"

"Zakia, I-I can't beat this one." He managed. "It's bad."

She sniffed, and Din knew she was trying to hold it together for his sake. "And I can't leave you. You need to let the IG bring you. We can get you to safety. Treat you."

Din swallowed, shaking his head. It sent stars flying across his vision, and he took it as a sign of his deteriorating condition. The fire was growing closer, illuminating his partner's face in orange and red. There was an exchange between group members taking place behind them, but Din was too far into the darkness to make out their words.

"Din! Dammit, Djarin, you're not allowed to leave me!" Zakia lifted a hand to his neck, pulling it away to examine the blood. "I need to take this off."

The mechanical steps of the IG droid came closer, and its metallic persona appeared in Din's vision.

"No." Din shook his head. "Go. Zakia, I need you to do this. For me."

Stubborn as ever, she shook her head. "No. I won't let you die alone. Remember last time we were on this planet? I won't let you die at all."

The IG turned to her. "I will stay with the Mandalorian."

"When will you two idiots realize I'm not leaving?" Zakia managed. Her hands were ineffectual, lying hopelessly on Din's thigh.

"I need to remove your helmet if I am to save you." IG-11 interrupted their pre-death staring match, and Din remained stock-still.

"IG's are hunters." Zakia deadpanned. She was straightforward, even to the point where she was staring death in the eye.

"Not this one. I was reprogrammed. I am a nurse droid. As previously stated- I am to remove the helmet if I am to save you."

Din managed to pull his blaster when the IG's clawed extremity reached out. The Creed was everything sacred to him. Mandalorians would rather die than break it, and he was no exception. Zakia knew the implications from the beginning, and always respected them. He would not allow a droid to break the oath he had sworn so many years ago.

"Try it and I'll kill you." Din pointed his gun at the droid, and Zakia shook with frustration. The noise that escaped her was half-sob, half- yell.

"It is… forbidden. No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I s-swore the Creed." Din choked. Zakia reached up, placing a hand on his blaster. She swung her body around, straddling his thighs with her knees. Her hair was a halo around her head, and Din reveled in the sight. If he had to die, it would be like this.

"I won't be living without you, Din." Zakia wiped tears away from her face, whimpering as she shielded him from the flames. "You know I've respected the Creed as long as we've been together, but this is where I draw the line. This is your life. This is _us."_

Din dropped his head against the table behind him, hands coming to rest on Zakia's hips. He squeezed gently, and his brain caught up with his mouth. Why was it this woman tore him to pieces? Built him up and then knocked him down like a blast charge on an old wall. Shattered to pieces in a matter of seconds

"I trust you. With everything. With this." Din didn't have to elaborate on his words for Zakia to understand them.

Their time was limited, and it was running out quickly. Zakia reached her hands up, fingers locking around the bottom of his helmet. Din didn't fight this time, despite the fact that his brain fought him at every step. Zakia was gentle, but more confident than she had been on Sorgan. Her hands pulled the metal away, deft fingers pressing the pneumatic release.

And it had been _so long_ since he had felt the atmosphere of another planet on his face. Sorgan had been the exception, thought it was only a few moments worth of peace. This was a hot blast of heat in his face, and his eyes flickered open with more clarity than he had in a long time. It took a moment to adjust to the light, and the droid was already surveying him.

"This is a bacta spray. It will heal you in a matter of hours."

Din couldn't hear the droid or recognize his actions, as he was too busy staring at Zakia.

She still sat over his thighs, frozen with the helmet in her hands. Her glacial eyes were fixed on his, and he forced a smile. "S-sorry to… disappoint."

Zakia moved then, sobbing freely as she embraced him as gently and as tightly as possible while the droid tended to his wounds. Din was too concussed to process this development properly, but he imagined it would all rush over him later if they managed a miraculous escape.

"Disappoint?" Zakia released a wet laugh into his shoulder, eventually lifting her head to kiss his cheeks and face. Everywhere she could reach was peppered with kisses, and Din began to gain some feeling back.

"You're perfect. Beat to hell and dragged through the dirt, but you're _perfect."_

* * *

_'The eyes are the windows to the soul.'_

Zakia had the saying recited to her over and over as a child. It was true, as far as she was concerned. But that day, inches from death and beaten by flames on the floor of their old hangout, Zakia was given evidence to support her claims.

Seeing Din's eyes had both broken her and saved her at the same time.

She was left to consider the idea as they carefully climbed into the sewer grate, supported by IG-11. The Mandalorian's helmet was replaced once they were on the ground, and Zakia reached up to switch on his helmet light.

After the droid had urged their exit, neither party had a chance to consider the complication of the previous minutes' action. Zakia knew the code was broken, but it was necessary. Din and her were partners- together as long as they could be, and bonded by a broken life. They had been through countless tragedies together, and even more fortunes. Letting his die was not an option, and removing the helmet fell hand-in-hand in their predicament. If she was being honest, she expected a much bigger rebuke on his part. A harsher opposition- anything to indicate he was worried.

But he hadn't fought her.

Then when the beskar was gone and it was his dark, worried eyes staring back at her in place of a visor, she broke. Zakia cried, only pulling herself together to get all of them out of imminent mortal danger. IG-11 had been instrumental in their escape from the building, and Zakia was sure they never would have got away without the droid. As they limped deeper into the sewer, she had no words.

They had a long way to go, but it felt like a huge obstacle had been taken from their path. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update for y'all! Sorry about the weird breaks/format. I was going to break it in half, but then the pacing didn't work out and left both chapters too short. The good news- more for all of you!
> 
> Again, I love your reviews/follows/favorites. It means so much that people take time to read this and get so involved. I love you all (platonically, of course :))


	20. Part XX: Sacrifice

IG-11 directed the trio whilst they were in the sewers. There were various twists and turns, and Zakia couldn’t discern exactly which way she had come. However, the droid seemed sure it could track Karga and Cara based on their bio-signals, and led his humans through the tunnels. 

Din was quiet, as expected, as he draped his weight over Zakia’s shoulders. She wasn’t of much help, as their height difference made him slouch, but the droid assisted. Escaping the tavern had been one thing, but the Imperials would be after them. Now Zakia had confirmation the Mandalorians had used the sewer to move about Nevarro, it was their only hope. Again, Din wasn’t of much use on that front, as the bacta was still incubating in his wounds and the Mandalorian didn’t do anything besides trudge on beside her. They had replaced his helmet upon entry into the tunnels, but it felt different. No longer was it concealing Din’s face and eyes. It held his secret-  _ their secret- _ and Zakia understood. 

“Your vital signs are improving.” The droid monotoned as they moved, still a distance behind Karga and Cara. 

A sound that was suspiciously similar to a snort slipped beneath the modulator. “Marvelous.” 

Zakia smiled at the sound of his voice, tightening her hold on the Mandalorian. Din squeezed her hip where his arm rested, and she turned the grin onto him. “How you doin’?”

Din’s helmet bobbed up and down, distinct from the jarring of IG-11’s movements. “Better as we move.”

Zakia tucked herself closer and nodded. “Good. Cara can’t be much further ahead.” 

IG continued to direct them through the concrete maze, cylindrical head spinning to scan the ground. It was focused on the concrete floor, and apparently too much as its leg crashed into an abandoned toolbox at the closest corner. 

“Oh. Proximity sensor failure.” IG-11 reported aloud. 

“Hunk of junk.” Zakia muttered. 

They rounded said corner, and all froze upon seeing a flashlight beam. Zakia had her pistols pulled in seconds, allowing the droid to take Din’s weight. But as their light changed, Zakia dropped the guns and sighed. 

Cara came jogging towards them, a smile breaking across her face. She clasped Zakia’s shoulder and looked into Din’s visor, handing off the Child to IG-11 with little hesitance. Greef was close behind her, also looking relieved at their appearance. She took Din’s other side, slanting some of his weight off of Zakia’s shoulders. 

No time to waste, they continued to press on through the tunnels. As speech was forgone, their footsteps echoed around the walls and back into their own ears. Time stretched on in what seemed to be endless loops as they traversed the concrete maze. 

“Do you know which way to go?” Greef asked as they entered another junction. This one had three options- the way they’d come, and two paths splitting off on either side of them. 

“No.” Din’s voice had grown more steady since Zakia had heard it. “I don’t know these tunnels, I’ve only entered from the bazaar.”

Zakia tried to keep the concern from her expression as it weighed on her mind. If Din didn’t know the way to the covert, they would doubtlessly end up right back in Imperial clutches. There was only so many turns they could keep track of, and Zakia would not be shocked to end up right back where they had started. 

“Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and we follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.” Karga suggested. 

The beam of Din’s helmet light wavered as he shook his head. “And the Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety.” 

Zakia’s only comfort was the lessening pressure of Din’s arm around her shoulders. Every few meters he would ease up, putting more pressure back on his own feet and keeping his head more square on his shoulders. It was only a matter of time before he stopped her and Cara, weakly digging his heels into the ground. 

“Ugh, this place is a maze.” Cara growled when they slowed, pointing a handheld light down either of the available paths. 

“Stop.” Din held out his arms, and Zakia stepped back. “I can stand.”

“The bacta infusion is working.” IG-11 stated, and Zakia was sure she had never felt so grateful to be in the droid’s presence. The Child hadn’t made a single noise of discomfort in the bot’s presence, reaffirming his stance as a proper caretaker. 

“Can you check for tracks?” Zakia asked Din, motioning vaguely to her head in a poor imitation of his helmet. She followed by swinging the rifle from her shoulder, holding it loosely in a ready position.

“I’m about to.” Din nodded, keying something into his bracer to activate the reconnaissance features. 

Zakia watched his viewfinder sweep across the ground, and pause when he apparently spotted something of interest. Din pointed at whatever it was, taking a few steps forward. “We’re close.”

It was then he took the lead, boots moving soundly across the ground. Zakia took long strides to keep pace with him. There was an unspoken sort of connection after their less-than-world-shattering reveal only minutes ago. Nothing had come raining down on them and nothing had threatened Din’s creed. But the implications of their actions were apparent to both parties, and it seemed to hold them together like magnets. Zakia and the Mandalorian, since engaging in an intimate relationship, had always shared a connection in regards to movements and body language. It was necessary when one person’s expressions were not visible to the other. Body language and movement cues had to be taken to work together. Though now it seemed to be purely sensory- Zakia could predict his every move and sense his emotion better than ever before. She had a face to go with a voice, lips to go with unseen kisses, and eyes to go with the empty stares from his helmet. Maybe it was just her emotions running on high and simply on fumes, put to the ultimate test in the past cycle. Or perhaps it was the start of something new. 

“Turn here.” Din’s command was a bit broken still, but it returned Zakia to her present self, tightening the grip she had on her rifle. 

The group took a hard left turn into a section of tunnels, and the floor began to change. It morphed from concrete into slatted metal grates, and the pats of their footsteps grew metallic. Din was still in the lead with Zakia and Cara flanking him, followed by Karga and IG-11. She could only assume they were drawing near, and Din’s pace sped up as he grew more confident in his turns. His last led them to a long stretch of straight hallway, floor indented in the middle for drainage with raised edges. 

Zakia shined the light on her scope around, soaking in the sight of overturned tables and discarded chairs. She furrowed her brow as an eerie feeling crept down her spine, and she let out a muffled yelp as her foot slipped on a large object in its path. 

“Ouch, damn it- oh  _ no.” _ She swallowed as her rifle illuminated the ground, pushing down the bile which bit at her throat. 

The object at her feet was a helmet. A  _ Mandalorian  _ helmet. And if her memory served her right, which she was sure it did, they were not fond of removing said helmets. 

Timidly, Zakia lifted a hand to Din’s arm, not able to tear her gaze away from the haunting sight on the floor. Her fingers were immediately brushed away, and it drew her attention from the helmet to her partner. 

“No…” Zakia stepped to his side, purposefully avoiding contact. 

Piled in front of them, was what remained of the Mandalorian Covert. 

There was a waist-high pile of armor, with all pieces from shin guards to pauldrons and helmets in varying sizes. A particularly terrifying display sat on the front- a single helmet staring back at the group. Zakia turned back to Cara, trying not to engage Din as he switched the light on his helmet off. 

Cara and Greef seemed as shocked as she was, and offered no help as to next moves. Zakia turned back to Din, reaching out a hand. “Din..”

He waved her off, stepping closer to the pile of beskar. Zakia’s hand fell back to her side, and she kept distance between them to let him breathe. Though they had been through a lot in the recent hours, she knew he would rather have space than pity. 

The Mandalorian lowered himself to a knee, lifting the single helmet Zakia had been watching out of the pile. He examined it closely, turning the metal over in his hands. It was in desperate need of a polish from an owner who was no longer. 

Cara took the silent moment to tap Zakia’s arm. “Let me.” 

Her voice was low, and Zakia hated what she was intoning, but nodded anyway. There was no need for Zakia to be the one to encourage his leave, but they had to keep moving if the covert was no longer. 

“We should go.” Cara had approached Din carefully, hovering over his right shoulder while staying apart from him. 

“You two go. Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.” 

All of the sadness Zakia had felt when in the presence of the remains dulled at Din’s words, and she stepped forward without thinking. “You’re not starting this again.” 

“And you are  _ not  _ arguing the point this time! These are my people!” 

Din’s anger surprised Zakia, and she recoiled. Her jaw snapped shut, and she bit down on her tongue to rein in tears. 

“Did you know about this?” Din was demanding, this time from Karga. “Is this the work of your bounty hunters?”

Zakia watched from her position, brain struggling to decide between anger and pity. Right then, it was leaning towards the former. She knew Din’s irrational behavior was only from sorrow, but the aggressiveness of his words was unwarranted.

“No.” Karga’s response was instant, and Zakia had zero doubt in regards to the truthfulness of it.

She knew the types that hunted, and they could care less about internal and political conflict. They wanted credits, and they wanted out. That was it. Her and Din had been prime examples for years, and the Mandalorian knew it full well. 

“When you two left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended. The hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They’re mercenaries. They’re not zealots!”

Back on his feet now, Din spun to Greef. “Did you do this? Did you?” 

Zakia pushed herself in front of Din, preventing him from getting close to Karga. As much as it burned her to be on the opposite side of her partner for once, she couldn’t allow emotions to cloud his normally stellar judgement. 

“Mando,  _ stop _ . I know how you must feel right now, but you know that Karga is right about this!” Zakia imagined to deep chocolate eyes she had seen in the burning tavern, alight with rage and grief at seeing his people destroyed. 

“You need to get out of my way.” Din growled, hands balling into fists at his sides. “I know he-”

“It was not his fault.” 

Cara reached for her blaster, and Zakia tensed. The voice was unfamiliar, but familiar in its tone and sound. It was being projected through a modulator, and the thought made both women relax as they turned. Din had been at ease throughout the length of her appearance, and Zakia took it as a sign the woman was friendly. 

Upon laying eyes on her, Zakia realized why. She was glad in a red-tone cuirass and heavy-duty tunic-type garment that reached just above her knees. A fur shawl was visible behind her shoulders, and her helmet was gleaming gold with small spikes at the crown of her head. 

“We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter.” The female Mandalorian motioned to the pile their rag-tag group had been observing. “This is what resulted.”

“Did any survive?” Din inquired, putting his back fully to Karga as the adrenaline from his one-sided confrontation wore thin. 

“I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world.” She answered. 

Zakia was entranced at the sound of her smooth voice. It was firm yet delicate, never hesitant and yet never harsh. She sounded like a leader. Din had mentioned that the Mandalorians were a matriarchal people, and wondered if this woman had been in charge of his tribe. 

“Come with us.” Din proposed to her, helmet tipping down in what Zakia took as a sign of respect. 

“No.” The answer was short and curt, leaving no room for argument. “I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.”

After loading several pieces of armor onto a hovercart, the Matriarch began to push it down the hall she had appeared from. Din followed behind, and the remaining three humans swapped looks. As much as it probably should have been a private moment, they all followed. It was not worth splitting up this far in.

They followed the Mandalorian woman down a winding tunnel, eventually ending in a circular cavern. A massive forge took up most of the center, hot blue flame shooting up from several heating units around the circular melting pot. The temperature within the room had climbed significantly, increasing by a substantial amount as their newest friend began lowering additional pieces to the forge. 

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.” 

Zakia’s eyes flickered from the woman to Din and then to the bundle still carried by IG-11. The droid stepped up at her command, and Din moved forward to be near the Child. “This is the one.”

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?” The woman asked. 

So Din had told her this story. Zakia imagined he spent time in this very room so the woman could craft his new armor after the Child’s capture, so the story of how he wound up with so much beskar was bound to come up. 

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” Din added. 

“From the Mudhorn?”

“Yes.” Din’s answers to the woman were prompt. 

“It looks helpless.” She then tilted her helmet back to Din. “You had more help with the Mudhorn than simply this Child, is that correct?” 

Zakia tensed. She had shot the Mudhorn after the Child had levitated it off the ground. 

“Yes.”

The Matriarch then turned towards Zakia, approaching her with purpose that the blonde found momentarily intimidating. She spoke something in Mando’a, to which Din replied quickly. 

“You must be Zakia.” The woman spoke in a lighter tone than normal, with something nearing fondness in her voice. 

“Yes ma’am.” She answered, dipping her head in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“As it is to meet you. Din Djarin tells me you are a great warrior.” 

Zakia smiled, if only a little. “I hope so. I do the best I can so we work well together.”

“Good. I am always glad to make the acquaintance of a great warrior.” 

She returned to the furnace then, redirecting her attention to Din. “Tell me about this Child.”

“It is injured but it is not helpless.” Din’s voice was growing more urgent as moments ticked by. “Its species can move objects with its mind.” 

Zakia took a step to the IG, reaching a hand up to brush across the Child’s ear. It cooed happily at her as the Mandalorians continued to converse. 

“I know of such things.” The Matriarch explained to Din, busying herself at the forge. “The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.” 

Rotating away from the kid, Zakia caught Cara’s curious eyes. The woman’s words were no comforting in the least. 

“It is an enemy?” Din pressed, shoulders squaring. His helmet remained fixed on his leader, but Zakia imagined his eyes searching out the Child. 

“No. Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not.” 

“What is it?” Din’s voice was growing more rushed as the woman kept a steady pace in her work. 

“It is a  _ foundling.”  _ She emphasized the last word, hanging weight on custom that was dreadfully important to Mandalorian culture. “By Creed, it is in your care.”

Air rushed from Zakia’s lungs when the realization that the Child was actually theirs. That was, by the Mandalorian’s decree, anyway. 

“You wish me to train this thing?” 

The female Mandalorian who was digging through a cabinet at that moment turned to him. “It is too weak. It would die.” 

Zakia’s heart skipped a beat at the statement, reaching out once again to the kid. 

“You have no choice. You must reunite it with its own kind.”

As much as they hadn’t acknowledged it, the Child’s species had been a mystery. Zakia had seen quite a range of beings in her time, but nothing as small as this one, or that aged as slowly. 

“Where?” 

Din’s question subverted Zakia’s own, making another fair point. They had no idea what it was, let alone where to find its kind. 

“This you must determine.”

“You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?”

The Matriarch answered him simply: “This is the Way.” 

Continuing with her smith’s work, the woman turned back to her workbench. Cara finally stepped forward, gesturing urgently at the door. “Hey. These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.”

“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream towards the lava flats.” 

Zakia was eternally thankful for the Matriarch’s words, unable to vocalize her own concerns. Din’s flippant behavior when they had arrived at the covert was not unwarranted, but it felt like an angry open wound on her mind. 

“I think we should go.” Karga agreed, checking the doorway for any signs of intruders. 

“I’m staying. I need to help her, and I need to heal.” Din was back to his previous ways, and Zakia shouldered her rifle. 

“How hard did you hit your head?” She demanded. “Why are you so dead set on killing yourself today?” 

“Enough, Zakia!” The same tone he had taken on in the tunnel returned, and Zakia approached him until they were inches apart. She poked a single finger into his cuirass. 

“So much for partners.” 

Zakia stepped back, making her way to the other side of Greef and momentarily doting over the Child. 

“She is right.” The blacksmith didn’t turn away from her work, but had obviously caught their exchange. “You must go. A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father.”

If steam hadn’t been rolling from Zakia’s ears, the glances tossed between Cara and Greef would have been comical. 

“This is the Way.” She went about her business once again, calm as if the Imps weren’t bearing down on them. “You have earned your signet.”

Sparks flew from Din’s pauldron when the woman approached and began etching into the metal. Zakia had to squint, unwilling to have welder’s flash from watching. When the smoke cleared, a mudhorn skull was visible on his shoulders, marking his armor permanently. 

“A clan of two. Maybe even three, as I see it.” It sounded as if the Matriarch was smiling, but the steel betrayed nothing. 

Din’s head tilted towards her. “I’ve done something-”

“What you have done out of necessity is irrelevant in such perilous times.” The woman looked at Zakia, and then back to Din. “It is the Way.”

Zakia swallowed as Din thanked her. Though it was apparent she knew something had occurred, it seemed more important that they uphold the Creed’s dedication to foundlings and protect the Child. Which was a promise that Zakia could stand behind. 

They were gearing up to exit when the sound of muffled explosions reverberated through the tunnels. Zakia was closest to the door apart from the IG, and stuck her head outside. Dust was rolling down the outermost hallway, and the sound of footsteps was becoming more clear. 

“IG, please guard the outer hallway.” The Matriarch instructed. “A scouting party draws near.” 

The droid made a full circle turn to hand the baby to Zakia, promptly making his exit from the room. The Child smiled up at her, and the blonde tried her best to return the gesture. She kept an eye on the outer hall, only turning back when the Matriarch lifted a large device from one of the tables. 

“Is that a jetpack?” Zakia muttered, only loud enough for Cara. 

The shock-trooper leaned in. “I think that’s an affirmative.”

“When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.” The woman held the item confidently, though her tone implied she knew he wouldn’t be waiting long. 

“I understand.” 

It was then that blaster flashed became apparent, and Zakia moved away from the door with the child. They watched carefully as all the noise died down, and IG-11 reappeared in the hall. 

“You are protected.”

It took an unnecessary amount of urging on the Matriarch’s part to get Din in a willing position to leave. He restocked his gunbelt and bandolier, wordlessly holding rifle cartridges to Zakia. He didn’t look at her and didn’t make a sound, but she took them regardless. Zakia made her exit with Cara and Greef, all jogging down in the direction they were told. 

Climbing temperatures indicated they were moving in the right direction, and Zakia smelled the lava river before she spotted it. The molten sludge was moving at a sluggish pace, and the only option to traverse the deadly river was a boat that had been long adhered to the side of the wall. The ferry droid was inoperable as well. 

After a brief spat about their best option, Karga and Din set to pushing the craft away from the wall to get it moving with the current. When it proved futile, Cara sighed. She pulled the repeating blaster off her shoulder and ordered the men out of her way. 

“Smart.” Zakia winked at Cara as she began blasting apart the solid rock formation holding their only means of escape. 

Freed shortly thereafter, everyone loaded onto the boat. Zakia handed the Child to IG-11 and allowed it to cross safely in the droid’s hold. Din and her only remained, and the Mandalorian hauled himself in. He held out a hand, but Zakia batted it away as he had to her earlied. 

“I’ve got it.” She crossed the small gap and settled herself near Greef at the front of the gondola. 

Zakia had just readjusted her rifle when a whirring came from the back of the ship, and the R2 model ferry droid fired up. It beeped and screeched, breaking free from its rocky captivity to reveal man-made limbs for paddling about. It was by far the strangest R2 Zakia had ever encountered, eliciting nothing more than inquisitive stares from the group. 

“I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?” 

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go.” IG-11 informed simply. 

“Down river. To the lava flats.” Karga ordered. 

The droid beeped happily and began paddling them towards their destination. The ride was unbearably hot, and only the bravest creatures came near the molten river banks. Everyone remained quiet, ears searching for hostile sounds and eyes peeled for enemies. Eventually, the light of day was visible a hundred meters down the tunnel. Karga stood, pointing towards the white glow. 

“That’s it! We’re free!”

Zakia felt a smile tug at her lips, and she stood as well. Swinging her rifle down, she glanced through the scope. It appeared safe, and she turned on thermal to check for obstacles before declaring them free. 

“No. We’re not.” She lowered the gun. “Stormtroopers are on either side of the tunnel. It looks like a whole platoon.”

“They must know we’re coming.” Din supplied, tapping into his own bracer to survey the situation. 

Zakia kept an eye on their enemies as Cara ordered the ferry droid to stop. It ignored the order, and kept on rowing towards the exit. Everyone grew tense, and their journey only slowed when Cara used her blaster to blow the head from the droid’s body. However, the boat still moved with the current.

“We have to fight.” Cara stepped closer to the boat’s bow, and Zakia reached up to take the Child from IG-11. 

“There are too many.” Din proclaimed. 

“Then what do you suggest? Because I can’t surrender.” Cara was speaking, but Zakia was more interested in IG-11 careful examination of the conversation. 

Their robotic companion seemed to dart back and forth, and cut into the conversation. “They will not be satisfied with anything less than the Child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy, and you will escape.”

“No. You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal.” Din looked at the droid, voice rising an octave as he spoke. “You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

Zakia thought back to their initial capture of the Child as warning bells began ringing in her brain.

_ “He was trying to opt out when we got pinned.” Din told her, striding towards the downed droid and helping pull to its feet. “You know, you’re not so bad. For a droid.” _

_ “Agreed.” _

“What are you talking about?” 

Shaking the memory from the forefront of her mind, Zakia watched the droid. 

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.” IG said. 

Not understanding the point, Greef interjected. “Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?”

“I can no longer carry this for you.” IG-11 handed Din the jetpack he’d been gifted. “Zakia has taken possession of the Child, for I can no longer.”

Din tried to delay the IG’s decision in vain, and the robot sounded as exasperated as someone without a brain could. 

“Sadly, there is no scenario in which the Child is saved that I survive.”

Zakia forced her stomach to refrain from flopping, distracting herself by smoothing a hand over the Child’s head. It only squeaked, and the emotions he picked up on were taking an effect. Zakia did her best to remain stoic in his presence, unwilling to shed her concerns into his innocent mind. 

“I’m not sad.” 

“Yes you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.” IG-11 looked to Zakia, almostly at the Child, and then proceeded to do what Din had been putting off. 

He stepped into the lava, disembarking from their boat and striding confidently down the river. Zakia watched, making sure the baby was turned away. She kept her head snuggled close to him though, fighting back the sadness that wriggled into her gut. IG-11 had saved them from the Imps, and the impression was not a small one. 

At the mouth of the tunnel, IG was sparking and twitching. They were too far in to hear his words, but close enough that the force of his self-destruct explosion sent Zakia’s hair blowing in a warm gush of wind. She ducked her face into her elbow to avoid any debris, and made sure the Child was covered. 

When she looked up, IG was gone. No one spoke, only began readying their weapons in case of stragglers. Zakia imagined there may be a few, but IG’s explosion had been impressive enough that she would be far from surprised if there weren’t any. 

The gondola crept out of the tunnel, and everyone aboard was ready for an attack. Zakia swept her scope around the small peaks, seeing nothing but singed armor and white uniforms. The Child chirped, but the sound was drowned out as a louder and familiar sound approached. 

Engines whirred, and Zakia had to squint against the bright sun to fully make out the TIE-fighter rushing them. 

“Moff Gideon!” Cara exclaimed, raising her repeating blaster. 

Zakia aimed her pistols as well, opting to sling the rifle. She set the Child at her feet, and the group exchanged fire with Gideon as he swept by. None of the TIE’s blasts made contact with them, but the group took it as it was- a warning. Karga encouraged the baby to use his abilities, but the order was lost on its tiny mind. 

“I’m out of ideas.”

“I’m not.” Din grabbed the jetpack from the boat’s floor, hauling it over his shoulder and attaching it to the rear of his cuirass. 

“Here he comes!” Cara called, prepping everyone for the second round of fire. 

Din pressed various buttons on his vambrace, and Zakia watched. Anger still simmering, she didn’t move to do anything but speak. 

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

A curt nod returned her, and the Mandalorian’s newest accessory began to fire up. The lift off sequence was similar to that of Paz, who had picked Zakia up during their initial raid on the Imperial hideout. Din stood still on the boat as Gideon approached, but launched into the air as soon as he passed again. 

He shot straight up, overtop of the TIE-fighter. A grapple shot from his gauntlets, and Zakia winced as they disappeared behind the peaks surrounding the tunnel. 

“”Damn.” She muttered. 

Everyone on the ground did their best to follow the skyward action, but it was impossible to know exactly what was happening. Moff Gideon soared above the clouds and then dove, and swerved in between mountain peaks. Din was only visible in short stretches, obviously fighting to damage the craft. 

“Come on…” She muttered, scrambling out of the boat and onto solid ground. Zakia tried to watch as the TIE-fight swept into her view, this time with a smoking wing and fiery engine. It was hurtling towards the ground, and Zakia’s breath hitched as it made impact moments later. She scoured the sky, and eventually caught sight of a black dot, growing larger as it neared the ground. 

“Din, I swear…” Zakia trailed off as his descent slowed abruptly, courtesy of the jetpack. He flailed as he neared the ground, making a relatively stable landing a few meters away. 

About to move forward, Cara tapped her on the shoulder. “Let me.” She motioned towards the Child, and Zakia thanked her quietly as she passed him off. 

Their reunion was slow-going, with Zakia stepping forward slyly, hands on her hips. “You’re still alive.”

“I’m sorry.” Din sighed, holding an arm out. His posture was exhausted, and his helmet hung on his shoulders. 

Zakia smiled, stepping forward to allow his arm to fall around her. He smelled of fire and smoke, but as long as he was alive, she could live with it. “Don’t ever talk like that again. I know it was hard, and I’m sorry.”

Din only nodded, retreating a step when Karga and Cara made a strategically late entrance to the gathering. 

“That was impressive, Mando. Very impressive.” Greef said with a smile. “It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up.”

All business, the Mandalorian spoke. “Anymore Stormtroopers?” 

Cara assured him they were gone, as well as revealing her plan to stay in town a while. Zakia smiled at her, grinning when the Child squeaked up at the Mandalorian. Cara lowered the baby to the ground, allowing him freedom while Din questioned her on her choice.

“Well why not? Nevarro is a very fine planet, and now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it’s very respectable again.” Karga intervened on Din’s apparent opposition.

“For bounty hunters?” Zakia inquired, smoothing her wild hair away from her face. 

“Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters.” Greef protested. “And perhaps this specimen of soldier would consider joining our ranks.”

Cara snorted at that, reaffirming her concerns regarding her chain code. They continued bantering for a moment, and Zakia actually felt content for the first time in a long while. Adrenaline still raced through her veins, but it was wearing thin. 

Din’s helmet tilted down abruptly, and Zakia followed it to the Child. The creature was pawing at Din’s leg, holding tiny hands up in a universal gesture. Din knelt and acquiesced the kid, and Zakia leaned into his shoulder. 

“Of course, you two will be welcome back into the Guild with open arms. So go off, enjoy yourselves. When you’re ready to return, I will give you both the pick of all quarries.”

As long as the Child squirmed happily in his arms and Zakia was pressed against his side, Din was unconcerned with the Guild. They needed to recover. To rebuild connections that had been broken, and explore new ones. 

“I’m afraid I have more pressing matters at hand.”

* * *

Burying Kuiil before embarking on their adventure had Zakia in tears. 

Adrenaline wore off, she was raw from running and her body was tired. She sat limply in the pilot’s seat, waiting for Din to return from laying the Child down. Zakia thought about the Ugnaught’s contributions to their lives, and how they would be somewhere completely different with out his help. Comfort engulfed her at the thought that he died with honor, defending something precious from the system that had wronged him earlier. 

“How are you?” 

Zakia snapped to attention, peeling her eyes from the windscreen as they exited Nevarro’s atmosphere. Din stood in the rear of the cockpit, hands hung limply at his sides. The jetpack was still fastened onto his back, and his cloak hung at an odd angle. 

“I’m okay. Just thinking about Kuiil.”

“He died with honor.” Din took a few steps towards the pilot’s chair, kneeling down so he was even with his partner. 

“I know.” Zakia let out a long exhale. “But it’s over.”

“That it is.” The Mandalorian dipped his head, and Zakia swore she could hear the debate raging in his head. “Zakia, the reason I wanted to stay-”

She reached a hand out to his cuirass, fingers wrapping around the top of the metal and squeezing. 

“Stop. I don’t want to do this right now.” Zakia spun the chair until she faced him fully. 

Din placed his hands on her knees, leaning his helmet against her abdomen as she perched on the end of the chair. Zakia’s hands slid over his shoulders and held tight, fingers worming their way through his cowl. The tips of her digits traced the sharp line of his helmet, and Din lifted his head. 

“Go ahead.”

Zakia swallowed, removing the beskar as she had in the burning building. The golden brown skin of his neck was visible first, followed by the dark swath of hair on his head. Her eyes found his after a few moments, both sets wet and wide in the dim cabin. It was lit only by starlight as they floated through space. 

“I love you.” Zakia murmurmed, ducking her head to place a kiss in his hair. 

Din didn’t answer her verbally, but the response would have been unnecessary. He tucked his head back against her abdomen, arms lifting to encircle her waist. Zakia didn’t mention the way his shoulders shook once his eyes were concealed, and she didn’t hesitant to stroke her fingers through his dirty hair. 

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” Zakia whispered, “And I wouldn’t trade all of this for anything in the galaxy.”

Din huffed against her stomach, and Zakia kissed his head once again. “Nothing in the galaxy?” His voice was muffled in her clothes. 

“Nothing. Unless you find something more amazing than yourself.” Zakia chuckled. “But a warm beach and a strong drink sounds great right about now.”

“You can have anything you want.” 

Din lifted his head to smile at her, and Zakia’s heart raced. A smile pushed the tissue of her scar aside, and she was elated at the thought of relaxation. The Mandalorian- now so vulnerable and quiet without armor- tapped the Navicomputer until it beeped. 

And when they entered hyperspace, their fear stayed behind. 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and keeping up throughout the canon part of this story! I might continue with some one-shots and short pieces in a second part/continuation of this when I have time, but I have some projects coming up that take priority :) Writing this for all of you has been an absolute treat, and if you have any ideas for one-shots or any adventures you would like to see our couple embark on, leave them in the comments and I'll try and get around to it. I read each and every one of them, and they continue to make my day. Thank you all, and keep an eye out for a second piece to this collection.  
> Hugs and love <3  
> -MoonlitDesertDreams
> 
> AUTHOR UPDATE: If you are just reading through this, welcome! Thank you for reading. As of right now, I have a group of prequel/before-this-story one-shots posted revolving around our favorite space cowboys. The work is titled 'Before You' and is the first part of the series 'New Beginnings' on my profile. 
> 
> Thank you all again <3


	21. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the lack of updates, I have had a bit of a crazy year (I think we all have). I was getting a lot of requests for one-shots post-Nevarro battle, and they don't go with my other story. I decided 'why not throw one on as an epilogue'. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

Zakia woke in an unfamiliar room. 

It smelled of the ocean- salt and clean air. The breeze blew in through an open window, along with an ashy dawn light that snuck through hazy curtains. The bed she was in was far more luxurious than what she usually occupied. White sheets and a thick downy comforter were draped over her shoulders, and she was warm beneath the covers. 

A sound behind her indicated her bedmate was awake, and Zakia rolled over. She remembered entering the inn the previous night, feet dragging after the battle on Nevarro. Zakia had secured the room while Mando unloaded the necessary items from the Crest- they were staying for as long as possible. 

Still surprised as ever upon seeing his face, Zakia took a moment to appreciate Din’s handsome features as he fought to remain in the clutches of sleep. His dark, almost black hair contrasted sharply with the white pillow where it laid in a wavy mess. Tan skin stretched the length of his bare shoulders and chest, wethered around his eyes and nose despite having eternal protection from the sun. His long nose was bruised, a deep cut running across the bridge. Other small bruises littered his face and neck, no doubt a result of explosive shrapnel after the E-Web battery explosion. 

Zakia reached out with one finger to trace the side of his face, memorizing every inch of it as best as she could. While he remained helmet-less in private, she knew it would be back on as soon as they were out of bed. The helmet was sat carefully on the bedside table, and Zakia ignored the visor as it pointed in her direction. The only reason he had even consented to removing it was because the inn was over forty stories high, overlooking the ocean on some ritzy vacation planet. Their suite, upon Karga’s insistence that they be paid in some way, was the penthouse. Apparently owned by a friend of the agent’s, who was more than happy to disregard any abnormalities given a sufficient amount of money. 

“That tickles.” Din muttered as Zakia’s fingers brushed through the hair falling over his forehead. 

She squirmed across the massive bed to close the distance between them, smiling happily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Brown eyes fluttered open, framed by dark lashes that Zakia found herself incredibly jealous of. “It's alright. How are you feeling?”

Zakia shrugged. “I’m okay, just a couple bruises. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

As if her worry was cursed, Din winced and rolled his shoulders. The movement carried through his spine and head, and the Mandalorian groaned as cracks and pops reached her ears. 

“Getting old?” Zakia teased. 

Din pressed his face further into the pillow. “That too. My head’s throbbing.”

Zakia laid her palm flat against the side of his face, thumb brushing gently over his eyelids. “Do you want more bacta? Or, I think there’s a medic downstairs we could visit.” 

The man beside her huffed a sigh, looking childishly at her. “I don’t feel the need to move, in all honesty.”

A small rustling at the foot of their bed tore Zakia away from her gentle ministrations. She lifted her head and looked down, smiling as green ears appeared on the white covers. 

“The kid?”

“The kid.” Zakia confirmed, stretching her arms down to pick him up. 

The Child squealed in delight, wrestling with the covers until he was curled up between his two guardians. Din’s mythosaur pendant was clenched in a tiny fist, and the Mandalorian reached a finger out to brush over it. 

“Womp rat.” He muttered, moving his finger to tap the baby’s nose. 

Zakia smiled fondly at the pair. “This vacation is well deserved.”

On the beach, Din watched his family. 

Considered the implications of he and Zakia’s new arrangement regarding his helmet. 

The planet was relatively quiet, but enough people milled about that Din was fixed in full armor. Most avoided him like the plague, afraid to approach a Mandalorian or related companions.

He didn’t mind. 

People never were his specialty. Hunting them, sure. But talking? _Communicating_? That was a new ballgame. A new facet of life he had to learn himself after becoming independent and functioning successfully outside the covert. Din thought he had mastered the art, but that went up into flames. He had made himself into a man of few words. Only the important things needed to be spoken on. Otherwise, there was no point. Small talk was irrelevant. 

However, the transition into a family like was more than he bargained for. 

Though it was far from a normal family life- they weren’t going to have it easy by any means- they were still going to have to function as a whole. That meant more communication on his part and less glossing over the little things. The newest part of their relationship, namely, his face, created even more concerns for him. Perhaps he was overthinking then, but it was important to consider. 

Din was no longer able to hide behind a mask. He had to face someone eye-to-eye. Something he hadn’t done in years. Whether they realized it or not, he always did make eye contact, but it was often one-sided and unnoticed. But eyes were a great indicator of someone’s feelings. 

Now, his feelings. 

Zakia never stopped to question how he felt after the battle. She checked on his well-being of course, but spared him the cautious, careful glances that Cara and Greef had given him after his name was revealed. She was intuitive like in that sense. Din had been drawn to that side of her for years; Zakia could spot someone’s discomfort from a mile away, and knew when to leave it be and when to approach. Din had been unsure of his own feelings, so she refrained from asking about it and adding weight onto his already mounting thoughts. 

As if making an appearance to remind him, a bolt of pain shot from the base of Din’s neck. It throbbed over his left eyebrow and forced him to squeeze it shut. With the helmet as a stark reminder to keep his cool, he only tilted his head down, resting it against the back of his glove. 

“Doing alright?”

When he lifted his head once again, Zakia stood before him. Dressed in loose canvas shorts that stopped mid thigh and a loose white button-down, she was a vision of the sea. Her top was splattered from carrying the Child into the waves, and said baby was currently reaching tiny arms out in the Mandalorian’s direction. 

“My head.” Din replied, “I put a bacta patch on before we came out. Just sore.”

He took the Child from Zakia, boots shifting in the fine sand of the beach. The blonde followed with the boy, allowing herself to be tugged into the Mandalorian’s arms. 

“Sounds like a concussion if I’ve ever heard it.” Zakia murmured against his cuirass. 

Din hummed his affirmation, tipping his helmet back as the Child wiped a drool-covered hand on it. Even so, he couldn’t find it in his to chastise the tiny being. Babbling and drooling, the Child smiled all the way. He was delighted to be with both of his people in a place where so little threatened them. 

“He’s happy.” Din commented, bumping his hip gently into Zakia’s side. Her eyes had fallen closed, and blinked open at his movement. 

“Very. I think he wants to stay a while.”

 _‘Stay a while’_ didn’t often end well with the odd trio, but this time it felt different. Din imagined the feeling was right, and couldn’t be bothered to fight it in his current state. Casting a glance to make sure they were still secluded on the sandy beach, Din leaned into Zakia’s grip. 

“Ready for a nap?” She teased. 

Din paused, and cocked his helmet to look at her. “You better start walking then.”

For the first time in thirty years, Din Djarin was finally relaxed.

  
  
  
  



End file.
